A Learning Experience
by SeraphStar
Summary: DISCONTINUED. Year six, ducklings. New friends, old enemies, and a :gasp: GIRL at Hogwarts mix things up a bit. And, of course, there's that whole impending doom thing. Things are starting to get interesting. AU after book five.
1. Prologue

WARNINGS:

OOC-ness

Original Character(s)

Fluff later

DISCLAIMER: I don't own nuffink. Well, I don't own anything that is copyrighted. That is why I am a poor sixteen-year-old who writes fanfiction for enjoyment. If you sue me, my sister will draw you a pretty picture.

AN: I'm currently revamping what little I have because I realize it sort of sucked before. It sucks a little less now so I guess I'm happy.

**Prologue**

It had been a particularly uneventful summer for Harry, considering all that had happened. He spent the first two weeks of the holidays cooped up with the Dursleys who were frightened out of their wits that Dumbledore would come swooping in to turn them into rats.

The second part of the summer was spent at number twelve Grimauld Place with Ron and Hermione trying to figure out what the Order was cooking up and how to help. This usually ended up with them getting sent to clean some stuffy room or another or help Ron's mother with whatever meal was next.

All too soon, it was time to go back to school. Remus took everyone to Diagon Alley to pick up their supplies and then proceeded to usher them to Platform 9 ¾ to board the Hogwart's Express. Truth-be-told, Remus had tried to assume the now-vacant spot of Godfather to Harry in an effort to comfort the teen. Harry, however, did not need comforting. Unknown to everyone besides himself, Ron, and Hermione, the three had figured out a way to use Sirius' last gift to Harry as a liaison between the so-called astral and physical planes. They hadn't used it often because the spell was difficult and the ingredients needed were hard to come by, but it gave Harry comfort to know that Sirius wasn't gone for good. He felt sort of bad for not telling Remus, but the time wasn't right. Harry promised himself he would, someday, just not that day.

"Harry, hurry up, the train's leaving!" Hermione called from a still-open door.

Saying a last quick goodbye to Remus, he hopped on the train alongside Hermione and, after finding Ron, the three went to look for a compartment.

After a few minutes Ron groaned. "Everywhere is full!"

"Be quiet, there's only one person in this one," Hermione quickly opened a compartment door and they all slid in.

"Do you mind if we sit here?" Harry asked the girl curled up in the corner window seat.

Brushing long, dark hair from her equally dark eyes, she regarded them with quiet amusement for a moment. Shifting slightly with an athletic grace and adjusting the thick woolen blanket covering her legs, she pushed the thin, wire-rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose and said, "Not at all," before turning back to her novel that looked as if it had been written in Phoenician. An assortment of dog-eared wizard and muggle books lay at her feet.

The three promptly shoved their luggage into the available compartments and took their seats. Ron leaned back and sighed, semi-comfortable at last.

The girl put some sort of listening device over her ears and proceeded to ignore them.

"Who do you think she is?" asked Ron once he was sure she couldn't hear them.

"She's too old to be a first-year," Harry mused, as he thought of a more suitable answer, Ron asked another question.

"What is that thing on her ears?"

"It's used to play music. I saw it in the _Daily Prophet_ the other day," Hermione explained to Ron. "She must be a transfer student."

"Wicked, d'you think she'll be in Gryffindor?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, boys. "I don't know."

Harry, sensing some dissention in the ranks, tried to change the subject, "What is that she's reading?"

Hermione squinted. "It's an unabridged version of The Lord of the Rings in its Sindarin translation; a very popular book. I'd like to read it when I have the time," she replied matter-of-factly.

"What?"

"Oh, never mind."

Then, as it always did, the door of the compartment slid open to reveal perhaps three of Harry's nine least favorite people in the world. Namely Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle.

"Well, well, well, what have we here," the blonde smirked, eyeing the trio.

"Sod off Malfoy," Ron threw a pepper-flavored Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean at the blemish on what he'd hoped would be an enjoyable train ride.

"Language Weasley, wouldn't want to be sent to detention on your first day back, would you?"

"That's it," Ron pointed his wand at Malfoy.

In a matter of seconds, a small jinx scuffle was well under way. Hedwig, Crookshanks, and Pig were all making a ruckus, trying vainly to escape the battlefield. Harry's glasses were broken, Hermione's hair was bright pink, Crabbe was sporting a Mohawk, and Malfoy was an interesting shade of purple with yellow polka dots. The only thing that saved the exchange student from losing her glasses was her book. It had a nice hole burned clean through the pages courtesy of Malfoy.

Upon seeing this, all participating in the small war froze as if they had been petrified.

The girl slowly removed her headphones and looked up and, after glaring the death glare to end all death glares, said very clearly and very harshly to Malfoy, "Blondie, I'm expecting you to pay for this book, I'll send you the receipt. Now," she pointed to the door, "don't do it again." When they didn't leave, she removed her glasses and sighed, "Would you please excuse us now?"

Sulking, Malfoy and his entourage did excuse themselves, but not before making a few choice snide remarks that earned them a few rude hand gestures. Apparently satisfied, mystery girl donned her listening device and, still fuming, tried to continue with her ruined book.

"I like her," Ron grinned, pointing to the new girl. "Did you see the look on Malfoy's face when she told him off?"

Harry chuckled. "Yeah."

"And by a GIRL!"

"I like her already."

The rest of the train ride happened without incident and soon they were all changing into their robes and disembarking.

As the-girl-who-told-off-Malfoy exited the compartment she waved a short goodbye and almost-smiled.

"Hey, will we be seeing you at banquet?" asked Ron.

"I suppose," she said, over her shoulder.

"Well," Hermione stated after a short awkward pause, "goodbye then."

"Goodbye."

A brief interlude later and the three Gryffindors had forgotten what's-her-face for a time because the sorting was starting. It was still rather amusing to watch all the nervous first years don the Sorting Hat and close their eyes tightly, not quite resigned to their fates. The song this year was quite amusing and was done entirely as a limerick. After "Zoinks, Patricia" became an official Ravenclaw, Dumbledore stood to make the start of term announcements.

"As always, the Forbidden Forest is off limits and please make sure to re-read the list of contraband items as Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has added quite a few over the summer," he began, "We have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Miyu from Japan." The strict-looking Asian woman stood and her face melted into a smile, everyone almost immediately liked her. "We also have the pleasure of having Professor McGonagall's niece here, Miss Seraphim Fealen, who has put off studying abroad and will be aiding her Aunt in teaching a one-year class on magic theory and wandless magic." Mystery-girl stood up, mumbled a small greeting while looking rather bored, and nodded to the mass of students.

Hermione looked about to burst with excitement.

"What is it?" Harry nudged her.

"She's a mage! That's why she's helping this year, she's not an exchange student at all!" she half-exclaimed amid the polite applause.

"She's a what?"

"A mage, wandless magic, they don't use wands all the time. Sort of like Tonks except they have more mental prowess versus physical prowess. Their mental capacity is somewhat larger so their concentration level is higher. Thus, the aid of a wand in enhancing one's magical capacity is unnecessary. That's why she's so young. Mages are home schooled because they learn faster than normal witches and wizards on account of not needing a wand," she whispered fiercely.

Ron put in his two cents after eavesdropping. "Did we sign up for that class?"

"Yes we did, all sixth years are taking it," Hermione replied.

"Brilliant. This is one time I hope we double with Slytherins, it'll be great to see her tell Malfoy off for being, well, Malfoy," Ron smirked at the thought before all three turned back to Dumbledore.

"And now, let's eat."

Amid the delicacies that were the product of the Hogwarts House Elves (of whom Hermione had finally been convinced were right where they wanted to be) the obligatory new teacher discussions were taking place.

"Professor Miyu comes from Japan right? Do you think we'll learn about _obake_?" asked a second year.

"Probably not, those are really advanced. We might be learning about the _oni_ though. They're like these troll things," his fellow answered.

"I'll have to suffer through a year of that female?" Malfoy sniffed, "I'm transferring classes."

"When are they handing out schedules?"

The idle chatter continued until just about everyone was full and they all made the seemingly long, weary walk to their respective common rooms.

Waiting in the Gryffindor common room was Seraphim and Professor McGonagall. "Students, I'll have you know that this year you will have a house mate. My niece will be staying in one of the extra bedrooms to keep you all in line," she glared pointedly at Harry, Ron, and, as an afterthought, Hermione. "Please treat her with respect and don't forget that classes start promptly at eight tomorrow morning. Do not be late."

Seraphim glanced over the three friends and made her way up to the girls' dormitory and, supposedly, to her room.

"Bli-mey." Ron grinned. "This day just keeps getting better and better."

Harry laughed whole-heartedly, knowing his friend was joking and that he'd never cheat on his long-time-long-distance 'I only wanted to get to know her better and then things spun out of control and oh to hell with it' girlfriend, the one and only Fleur Delacour. "I know what you mean."

Hermione, ever the sensible one, rolled her eyes. "Oh come off it. Ronald Weasly, you are taken and loving it."

Ron and Harry were stumped there and settled for shrugging and shuffling off to their respective dormitory after bidding Hermione good night.

The next morning, Ron was pleased to see, was double Theory with Slytherins. Professor McGonagall stood in the front with her niece while the class quieted down. Seraphim looked over the class with a hint of distaste obvious in her eyes. Of course, many of the students were regarding her in the same way.

"Now class," Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, "First term will concentrate on wandless magic, which I'm sure some of you have heard of. With that said, we'll begin with a review. Who can give me a good definition of what wandless magic is?"

Hermione raised her hand.

"Miss Granger?"

"Wandless magic, the preferred variety of magic for Mages, uses incantations without wands. It concentrates mental powers like telepathy and telekinesis to be used for simple spells. A very high level of understanding of a spell is required for use of wandless magic by a normal witch or wizard," she stated proudly.

"Good Miss Granger, five points to Gryffindor," Seraphim half-smiled. "Now, since Miss Granger has brought it up, can anyone tell me what a Mage is?"

Ron's hand shot up this time. "It's a witch or wizard that doesn't need to use a wand!"

"That is correct, take five points," Seraphim nodded. "Now, does anyone know what characteristics define a Mage?"

Surprisingly, the hand that rose belonged to Malfoy. Seraphim called on him with a slightly annoyed tone in her voice.

"A Mage," he smirked, "has dark hair and a thin, light blue ring around their pupils. They learn magic quickly and think incantations without the need to speak them or use a wand, though they may if it pleases them. Many mages at the Ministry of Magic are invaluable as undercover Aurors because they can pose as Muggles but still use magic."

"Very good Mister Malfoy, five points."

"Now," Professor McGonagall spoke again, "for an extra five points, who can tell me the reason Seraphim is helping me with the class this year?"

Harry silently thanked Hermione and raised his hand.

"Yes, Mister Potter?"

"Because she's a Mage."

"That is correct." Professor McGonagall gave the class an almost smile surprisingly identical to Seraphim's. "Now, get out your quills and parchment because you will need these notes for the entire course."

After filling out quite a few sheets of parchment with notes on how wandless magic began and when Mages were first discovered, the students filed out of the classroom for the morning break.

Suddenly, the sound of a female cursing filled the air as Seraphim rushed out of the room exclaiming that she was late. Halfway down the hall, she shot Malfoy a rainbow hair jinx for trying to trip her.

All was right at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Aah, thank you for reading. That's half the job done, right? So if you could please clickie the little purpleish-blue box down there and leave a review to tell me what I'm doing right (or wrong), that'd be just dandy. If you liked it, let me know. If you didn't, why not? If you hate me for some unknown reason, let me know. If I should give up now, say so!

Have a great one. :tosses cookies: Ciao.


	2. Girl Talk

Disclaimer: I have decided this is the last disclaimer you'll see. I don't own any characters from the original Harry Potter books by Ms. Rowling. I don't own any song lyrics if I happen to use them (unless of course…I made them up…which probably won't happen). So yeah. I have fifty-seven cents if you want to sue me.

AN: Aah, and I have finished with the revamping of chapter one. It's really not all that different. Hmm…maybe I'm just lazy. Thank you to Jackie for the constructive feedback.

**Chapter 1: Girl Talk**

It seemed that in the interlude between teaching her two sixth-year classes (Gryffindor-Slytherin and Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff), Seraphim would be looking into a few classes of her own. She had sat in on the sixth-year Defense Against the Dark Arts and Care of Magical Creatures classes as well as the seventh-year Herbology and the seventh-year History of Magic (which, it was said, she didn't always attend). By the end of the first week, she'd also decided to observe the sixth-year Potions class.

Most nights she could be found in her room going over lesson plans or notes from the day. One evening Hermione joined her to go over the technique for the wandless levitation spell.

"Yes, that's better. The incantation must be over-enunciated to make up for…yes. That's good."

Hermione beamed and took her wand out of the air. "So, how's your Potions class?"

Seraphim grimaced. "Boring as hell. He gave me homework. I'm not even technically in his class. But, of course, I need to go over my own lesson plans. Aunt Minerva told me even though I'm just an assistant, it's a good idea to have hands-on experience in everything."

Hermione laughed and sat at the foot of the bed. "That is a little demanding."

After a moment's deliberation, Seraphim flopped on her bed. "So, how are things around here?"

"What do you mean?"

"Teachers, students, whatever. I'm a 'teacher', I'm sure I have no clue about what really goes on here and, hey, I _am_ a teenager," Seraphim rolled over so she was looking at Hermione upside down.

"It's all right. Snape, as you've noticed, is a little less than satisfactory but it's all right. The house teams will be pretty good this year. If you plan to stick to a Gryffindor crowd, expect to get flack from Malfoy. In fact, expect flack from him anyway since you're rooming here." Hermione shrugged.

"That bad a character?" Seraphim grinned.

"That bad." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"All right. How about his entourage? They any harm?"

"Not really. They do what he says but not much else."

"I see." Seraphim flicked a piece of lint from her bed.

"So, what about you?" asked Hermione.

"What about me what?"

"I need some information if we're to become friends."

Seraphim laughed. "All right. I'm a Mage. I'll be seventeen in December of this year. Aunt Minerva told me to help her with her students this year because I don't know what I want to do as a career. My parents are always abroad for their work as researchers so I see them a few times a year for holidays and birthdays. I love Muggle inventions; they're so interesting. I'm an only child. Um…" Seraphim thought a moment.

"Pets? Hobbies?"

"No pets. But I like music. I play the flute." Seraphim gestured to the glass flute in the case resting on her desk. "I also like to write and argue."

Hermione nodded. "What about boys?"

Seraphim giggled. "What kind of boys? Hogwarts boys?"

"Of course."

"Hmm. Most boys here seem all right. I hear all the good ones are taken though," she winked.

Hermione shook her head, "Harry's still free. He's good-looking, charming, agreeable-"

"So why don't you date him?"

Hermione looked taken aback and mumbled something incomprehensible.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm dating someone," Hermione blushed.

"Oh right," Seraphim rolled over again, "I read about that in a tabloid. You're going out with that Krum fellow, right?"

Hermione giggled. "Yes."

"Well, if I tinkered with his personality a bit, Malfoy would be a catch. The bad boy attitude is quite appealing if you're into the whole S&M thing. Which I'm not. But whatever," Seraphim shrugged.

"I think you could spruce him up," Hermione interjected.

"Tcha. If I wanted to get my head blown off. The little rascal is rather irritating. Did you see him try to trip me in the hall after your class with me?" Seraphim wrinkled her nose. "No thank you. I'd rather Harry."

"Would you like me to put in a good work with him for you?"

"Aren't I a little old for him?" she raised an eyebrow.

Hermione shook her head. "Not at all. He used to like this girl, Cho Chang, a Ravenclaw, last year and the year before. He has no problem with older women."

That caused Seraphim to giggle. "Well, not right now. I need to settle in and figure out a routine. God, I remember being in tutoring and thinking, 'I can do better than this git.' But now that I am, it's really difficult to make everyone understand," she sighed. "Aunt Minerva wants me to take a position here since she's thinking of retiring soon but I don't think I'm cut out for it."

"What about an Auror? I heard that a lot of Mages are chosen for those jobs because of their ability to go undercover in the Muggle world," Hermione suggested.

Seraphim sat up to pull her hair into a bun. "Dumbledore suggested that. I don't know though. That's why I've taken this year off to 'find myself' according to my parents."

Hermione nodded understanding. "I see. Well, I'm planning to be an Auror. So are Harry and Ron since summer."

"You guys are really good friends aren't you?" Seraphim smiled.

"Yeah, we are. Under very strange circumstances," Hermione laughed.

"Oh yeah. Aunt Minerva told me about the troll incident. So what really happened down there in that bathroom?"

"Ah, well you see. They'd actually insulted me and I'd gone off because of it. Then the bloody monstrosity found me and was about to finish me off when Harry and Ron showed up and did their best to incapacitate it," Hermione shook her head and ran a hand through her hair. "We were a little thicker back then."

"Don't worry, mischief gets easier as you get older because people trust you more and you know more ways to get out of trouble," Seraphim grinned. "I know this from experience."

"And here I thought you were a perfect little girl who always did what your teachers said," Hermione chuckled.

"Hah! Far from it. I'd do what they said when it suited my own purposes. Then I figured out the rest myself, bad habit of mine. But it usually worked."

"So what kind of pranks did you pull if you were tutored?" asked Hermione.

"Well, I had a few tutors and their kids were about my age; Lillian and Darius, who's my cousin, are now engaged and Jesse, my best friend. Their parents would always catch us doing something during the holidays. They all went to Beaubaxtons during the school year," Seraphim explained.

"So Jesse is a…?"

"Boy. He's pretty good-looking and I'd date him if he wasn't like a brother to me," Seraphim summoned her wallet from a table and took out some pictures. "There he is, the tall Spanish one."

Hermione took the photo and looked at the four teenagers. Who she supposed was Darius because of his similarities to Seraphim, Lillian, a pretty blonde who Hermione remembered from the Triwizard tournament, Jesse, the Spaniard, and Seraphim were all waving at the photographer. It seemed they were in front of the Hogwarts castle before the start of term.

"Do you miss them?" she asked.

Seraphim shrugged. "Kind of. I guess you could say they're like my Harry and Ron. We're something of a team. But Dare and Lillian are off exploring some artifacts in the arctic and Jesse is working on getting onto a Quidditch team. We met your Oliver Wood over the summer you know. Nice chap," she smiled.

"He's something of a fanatic but he is a relatively nice guy. He was nice to Harry when he first started playing," Hermione affirmed.

"Do you play?"

"Quidditch? No. But Harry and Ron are both on the Gryffindor team. Harry's a seeker and Ron's keeper."

"Ah, I see."

"Do you play?" Hermione moved to sit beside Seraphim on the bed.

"Mmm, I have a broom, Cleansweep Seven, but I can't fly all that well. Jesse's been trying to teach me since we were young but I never got the hang of holding on long enough to do much of anything worthwhile on the thing. I love flying, but I can't stay on the darn thing. I must've fallen off a broomstick more times than anyone else in the world at the hands of my 'loving, caring teacher.' Pshaw. But really, when he's not trying to make you fall to your doom, Jesse's a good guy," Seraphim laughed.

"I'd like to meet him someday," Hermione suggested.

"All right. I'm staying for the winter holidays and they'll be coming round for a few days. You can meet them all then."

Hermione smiled. "That'd be nice."

There was a lull in the conversation in which Hermione looked at the clock. "Oh, I've got to go to sleep. I have Transfiguration with your Aunt tomorrow morning and she'll kill me if I'm late."

Seraphim glanced at the timekeeper on her desk. "I guess you're right. Hey, tell any of the other students that they're more than welcome to come in for help on my subject. I know I come off as sort of stuck-up but that's to dissuade the slackers who'll waste my time."

Hermione nodded. "Sure thing. Well, see you tomorrow."

Seraphim blanched. "Damn, I forgot. Potions."

Hermione laughed as she exited the room. "Don't worry, we're there with you."

"Good night!"

"Night."

Outside in the common room, Harry and Ron were just finishing up their Astrology charts and were comparing notes.

"Hey Hermione," Harry moved over for her to scoot in between them.

"We should be getting to bed soon," she told them, scanning their charts. "And Polaris goes in the second…no, right there." She pointed at a spot a little to the left of Harry's Polaris.

"Oh, thanks," he scribbled a bit and changed his mistake.

"So, how's miss Mage?" asked Ron.

"She's nice. I think you'll like getting to know her; we'll be great friends. She says she's pulled a number of the type of stints that we're all so famous for throughout the school. And she says we can go in for help anytime," Hermione nodded, rearranging the papers in front of her.

Harry and Ron exchanged looks. "Cool."

Then Hermione smirked and faced Harry, "She also thinks you're cute." Leaving the two boys, Hermione walked toward her dormitory, satisfied with herself.

Harry and Ron sat, stupefied. "Bli-mey," Ron punched Harry in the arm.

"Ow, what was that for?" Harry rubbed the sore limb.

"She thinks you're cute," Ron stated.

"That doesn't mean you have to hit me," Harry replied.

"Ask her to the next Hogsmeade trip," Ron prompted.

"But I don't like her like that," Harry protested.

"You will," Ron ordered.

The two walked off to their dormitory bickering over the pros and cons of Harry dating their sort-of Professor.

And :flourish: it is done! Sort of. I mean the story's only just started but that's the end of the chapter. So please do me a favor and review because it makes me happy and you can write it down as your good deed for the day! (Or if you do bad deeds I guess you could flame me instead…)

Aloha and good night! :huggles:


	3. Getting to Know You

AN: Hm, so I have discovered that by saving this in html format, the italics/bold/underline stay. How sad as I have been doing the thing for nearly two years. Well, here is chapter two.

**Chapter 2: Getting to Know You**

It was a chilly morning the following Monday when Seraphim began class with the Gryffindors and Slytherins. She had them practicing the levitation spell on textbooks and was forced to spend half the class period trying to save people from being knocked in the head.

"All right," she sighed wearily. "Let's try it one by one. Miss Granger, you first, please." Seraphim send Hermione a pleading look.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_," Hermione enunciated clearly as the textbook rose to a few feet off the desk in front of her and hovered. After a nod from Seraphim, the book dropped back to the desk.

"Thank you," Seraphim scanned the room. "Mister Weasley?"

Screwing up his face, Ron looked very hard at the book and muttered the incantation. After a few seconds of tense trembling, the book rose to about a foot off the table and hovered for a few seconds before falling back with a dull thud.

Seraphim beamed. "Very good, very good. Mister Zabini?"

And so she continued down the circle of students until she'd come around to the front again. Only Harry and Malfoy were left.

"Mister Malfoy, would you please perform the spell?"

With an air of contempt, Malfoy uttered the incantation and pointed at the book. Unfortunately, his gaze was directed elsewhere and a goldfish hovered out of Seraphim's fishbowl.

"The book please, Mister Malfoy. This is not like with a wand, you must be looking directly at the object. Please try again."

Malfoy complied irritably. The textbook rose and, when he got bored, dropped.

"Mister Potter?" Seraphim rubbed her left temple.

Harry levitated the book without complaint, much to Seraphim's delight, and she left them the rest of the class to do as they liked, so long as they kept quiet, while she discussed some things with Harry and Ron.

"Now, I know it's a bit much to ask of you. But since you've been around him much longer than I have, could you perhaps get that insufferable idiot to stop bothering me?" Seraphim jerked her head towards Malfoy.

Ron chuckled. "We've been trying to keep him off our backs for over five years."

Seraphim sighed. "Well, all right then."

Harry stopped her before she went back to her desk, "We can't get him off your back, but I think we have a story that may interest you."

Seraphim looked intrigued, "Do tell."

"Well, you see, fourth year, there was this Triwizard tournament. This wizard, Barty Crouch Junior who posed as Professor Moody, was pretending to teach us Defense Against the Dark Arts," Harry began.

"Yeah, and one day Harry and me and Hermione were walking to Potions and Malfoy comes up and starts an argument," Ron cut in. "So we're arguing and Malfoy's being a git and fires a curse at Harry's back right?"

"So then I turn around and there's this cracking sound and Moody's standing there," said Harry. "Then he tells us not to move and not to touch it."

"Only he was talking to Crabbe and Goyle because there was this white ferret on the ground," Ron laughed. "So he starts talking to the ferret and bouncing it up and down."

"And McG- I mean Professor McGonagall comes over and asks him 'Moody, is that a student?' all flustered-like and he says yes and explains that he was trying to hex me," Harry could hardly keep from laughing. "And she gets all bothered and tells Moody to change Malfoy back. And so he's lying on the floor-"

"His hair was all over the place and he was bright pink when Moody turned him back and took him to see Snape, who I'm sure didn't punish him, on top of being turned into a ferret!"

Seraphim raised an eyebrow. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious," Harry and Ron both swore.

"All right, thanks, I'll just picture a white ferret whenever I feel that he's being a little slimeball and that should lighten my mood considerably," she smiled.

"Anytime."

Seraphim straightened, "Okay everyone; class dismissed."

She also caught Harry, Ron, and Hermione on their way out. "Come by my room this evening for help on the levitation spell you two. And Hermione, I'll help you with that body-bind. Use it on Malfoy sometime when no one's looking, all right?"

They nodded and left the classroom grinning, heading for History of Magic.

Later that night, the three sixth-years filed into Seraphim's room where a Muggle CD was spinning of its own volition. A sweet flute and violin duet wafted through giving the room a warm, comforting feel.

Upon seeing her guests, Seraphim gathered up the notes in front of her and told them to sit down. "Let me just put these away and I'll be right with you."

They all flopped onto three of her many beanbag chairs. Harry got scarlet, Ron orange, and Hermione lavender. Seraphim walked back into the main room with a plate of chex mix and a jug of pumpkin juice. "Want some?" she mumbled around a cookie. Pulling up a gray beanbag chair, she set the refreshments on a coffee table.

"I've got a question Seraphim," said Ron around a mouthful of chex mix. "Why don't you just take away points from Malfoy for being a menace?"

She scowled. "Aunt Minerva won't let me. I'm only allowed to give or take away points for 'academic reasons'."

Harry chuckled at Seraphim's imitation of her aunt. "Can't you just give him a really hard one and when he can't do it, take points away?"

She shook her head. "Not unless everyone else could do it."

"Why?" Hermione looked slightly put out.

"Because I'm rooming with you guys. If I was in the teachers' dormitories, I could dish out whatever points I wanted. But Aunt Minerva wants me to have the learning experience of being around people who are relatively my own age."

"I see."

Soon the chex mix was gone and the reason for the visit forgotten.

"We'll teach you how to fly this weekend, won't we Ron?" Harry and Ron were defining the higher aspects of Quidditch with Hermione getting in a few pointers here and there.

"I've already told you, I'm abysmal at flying. I spend more time on the ground than on the broomstick whenever I try," Seraphim complained.

"That's a load of rubbish, we'll get you to be a great flier," Harry affirmed.

They argued a while longer before Hermione decided to turn in for the night. She'd signed up for advanced Ancient Runes and had to be up earlier than Harry and Ron the following morning.

Ron leaned in once he heard the door shut, "So, can you really teach us the leg-locker curse? To use on Malfoy?" He grinned mischievously.

Seraphim rolled her eyes. "I was going to teach that to Hermione. She's got a little discretion on when to use it properly. Not when you feel like making his day miserable."

"What about the jelly-legs hex? Or the laughing charm?" Ron tried again.

"How about not?"

Harry laughed at Ron's seemingly futile attempts. "Give it a rest. She doesn't have the patience to teach you the leg-locker curse."

"Reverse psychology will not work on me," Seraphim half-glared.

"Damn."

Seraphim's CD began playing again. "What song is that?"

"It's _Heart Throbbing Harmony_ from a Muggle show," she explained.

"I know that one. Gundam Wing, Dudley used to watch it," Harry mused.

"It's a good show. Aunt Minerva allowed me some Muggle luxuries and I got hooked on that Japanese Animation stuff. I've got a pen pal in Japan who sends me loads. He's taught me some Japanese as well," Seraphim grinned.

"My uncle works for the Gringott's branch in Japan," said Ron. "He's always sending us Japanese candy. They're delicious."

Seraphim nodded. "They are. And no, I'm never planning on teaching you the Leg-Locker curse without wands."

The boys' faces fell. "Why not?"

"It's unethical and I'm not allowed. I can only teach you 'useful spells which will further your education'," she sighed, wrinkling her nose.

"Did your aunt tell you that?" asked Harry.

"Yes. But Uncle Albus, that's what I call Professor Dumbledore since I've known him my whole life, says that as long as no one gets hurt a little fun isn't wrong. Of course, Aunt Minerva gives me pocket money so…" Seraphim trailed off.

Ron pouted. "What if you just…"

"No."

"Right then," he sat back in defeat.

Seraphim laughed good-naturedly. "Of course, I could leave a study manual with Hermione and if you looked through it I'm sure you could figure it out." Winking, she refilled the jug of juice.

Harry and Ron grinned. "We'll make sure to have Hermione get the book right away."

"Don't bother. I gave it to her yesterday. She's using it to brush up on her Transfiguration. Aunt Minerva taught me specifically," Seraphim sighed. "I've got loads of notes in there for wandless magic though so you should be able to find something to hex Malfoy with."

Harry and Ron's grins, if at all possible, grew. "Wicked."

"Mmhmm, just don't get caught."

Ron looked indignant. "Caught? Us? Never."

"Good," Seraphim sat back in her chair.

"After you've finished with him, you'll be sure to take a picture or something won't you?" she asked after a while.

"Of course. If we can find a camera," Ron assured her.

"Maybe we can borrow Colin's," Harry suggested.

"Or didn't Neville get a camera for his birthday? We could ask him, I know he'd love to have a souvenir of that," Ron mused, remembering Draco's use of the Leg-Locker curse on Neville in their first year.

"All right, enough talk of rule breaking for one night." Seraphim hushed them up. "Have you two finished the essay I asked of you?"

The boys groaned. "It's not due for a week!"

"It's only a foot of parchment, babies," Seraphim laughed.

"Easy for you to say, you assigned it!" Ron threw a pretzel at her.

She tried to catch it in her mouth and ended up getting hit on the nose. "Still."

"We'll do it, we promise," Harry told her. "Right now we're having fun." So saying, he tossed a wheat chex in the air and tried to get it into his mouth. He succeeded in hitting himself in the eye. "Ow!"

They continued in that manner for a few minutes in which they got about seven pieces into their mouths and a hundred or so on the floor. After cleaning up, they flopped on Seraphim's bed.

"I don't want to go to sleep yet," Ron complained, looking at Seraphim's clock. It was about two in the morning.

"Classes start at nine for us," Harry reminded him.

"So six hours of sleep?" Ron suggested.

Harry shrugged. "I guess."

Seraphim rolled over to snatch her schedule from her desk. "Argh, I've got to go to History of Magic tomorrow morning," she sighed. "I missed last week's lesson and he floated into my Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw class and demanded an explanation. After I told him I'm not technically even his student he got all offended. Aunt Minerva told me to go to at least every other class from now on." She then made a sour expression, as if she'd rather not.

"Reckon we'd better get to bed?" asked Harry, looking at Ron.

The redhead nodded. "See you tomorrow Seraphim."

"Oh yeah, Defense Against the Dark Arts. Well, Professor Miyu is actually interesting. I'm going to persuade her to tell you guys about the _tengu_."

"The what?"

"This Japanese sort of bird-monster," Seraphim explained. "She told me about it at the feast and I've wanted to know more."

"All right, I hope it's interesting. Our last Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was…" Harry paused.

"Less than satisfactory," Ron finished as they stood.

"Good night," Seraphim called as they exited towards their dormitory.

After the boys left, Seraphim walked over to her desk and put her flute together. After taking some sheet music from a drawer, she began the melody from her CD.

Somewhere in the school, the strings of a violin murmured.

And that would be the end. Of chapter number the second one I mean. And if you could, you know, review, it would make me happy. Pretty please with a chocolate frog? 

_Until next time._


	4. Insuffrabilities

AN: Aah, summer is so wonderful. Unless you're Harry, then it rather sucks. But I am not, so there. And HERE is chapter number three in which Mister Malfoy butts heads with Seraphim. Enjoy.

**Chapter 3: Insuffrabilities**

Sometime in the late afternoon, after performing a simple warming charm, the sixth-year Care of Magical Creatures class made their way to the lake. Hagrid was going to teach them how to take care of the giant squid, something they'd been buzzing with excitement about for the past few weeks.

They would be massaging the tentacles and checking to make sure the squid was in good health. As the squid was slightly dangerous, Hagrid announced that they would be working in assigned pairs.

Harry and Ron were working on one tentacle while Seraphim and Hermione were checking the squid's beak with Hagrid's supervision. Poor Neville had been stuck with Malfoy.

"All righ' everyone?" Hagrid called, as they were about to begin.

A chorus of affirmatives rang in the chilly autumn air.

"Okay then. Firs' yeh've got to get a feel for 'im. Got ter make sure that he knows yer friendly." Hagrid rubbed just over the beak and the squid gave a rumble almost like a cat's purring. "Jus' like that."

The whole class tentatively reached out their hands to stroke the squid until they all felt as if they were in a muggle massage chair.

"Now, have yeh all got yer instructions?"

Another chorus of yeses.

"All righ', begin," Hagrid busied himself with teaching Seraphim and Hermione how to clean the beak while everyone else worked on various other parts of the squid.

Soon Hagrid had waded out to the shore and was overseeing the entire class' progress with a smile on his face. The squid was purring so loud he'd be afraid for the castle's foundations if they weren't protected by magic.

Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were assigned to help Seraphim and Hermione feed the squid. The four of them had a hard time figuring out what the squid ate since it usually fed on whatever was in the lake.

"Um, why don't we try fish?" asked Hermione, it seemed the most logical thing to do.

They tried fish. The squid gave a short rumble and promptly spat out the sea bass Hermione had thrown in its mouth.

"Right then," Lavender sighed. "Maybe it's a vegetarian."

They tried various vegetables and some forms of seaweed.

"Maybe we should ask Hagrid what it eats," Parvati suggested when she got a face full of avocado.

"Seraphim, will you go over to Hagrid and ask what it eats?" asked Hermione. "I mean, since you don't technically get graded for this class you won't get marked down for leaving the station."

Seraphim nodded and waded out to where Hagrid was trying to get Crabbe and Goyle to stop squeezing the squid so tightly as it was about to slap them.

"Hagrid, what does the squid eat?" she asked just as Hagrid got Goyle to let go of the tentacle.

"Eh? Uh, I think it eats them squiggly water lizards that live 'round the bottom o' the lake," he said offhandedly.

Seraphim blinked. "Do you happen to have any? We're assigned to feeding it."

"Ah, yeah. I've got some in me cabin. Can yeh watch these two an' make sure they don't kill themselves?"

"Sure, no problem." Seraphim smiled wryly as Hagrid ambled off. Then she turned to Crabbe and Goyle.

Just then there was a loud splash from the other side of the squid. Neville had just fallen off the platform he and Malfoy had been working on into the middle of the lake. And Malfoy looked as if he wasn't going to do anything about it.

"H-help!" sputtered Neville. "I can't swim well!" He floundered about, waving his arms.

Hearing the commotion, Harry and Ron quickly looked around and, being the closest pair, which was still a fair distance, dropped their heavy robes and dove in after Neville.

Hermione was screeching at Malfoy to get his bloody ass in the water but the Slytherin pointedly refused.

"He's fine, look, he's almost to the buoy," the blonde retorted when called a word that had never before been heard from Hermione's lips.

"Malfoy, get in there right now!" Seraphim ordered sternly. Hagrid was still a ways off with the water lizards and hadn't seen the splashing.

"Make me."

Just as Harry and Ron reached Neville and proceeded to help him to the buoy, Seraphim sent a hex straight at Malfoy. He was sprouting donkey ears when the three Gryffindors made it to safety.

Malfoy was livid. "How dare you!" he reached for his wand just as Hagrid came up behind Seraphim with the squid's food.

"What's goin' on here?" he asked upon seeing a dripping wet Harry, Ron, and Neville and the ass' ears on an enraged Slytherin.

"She…she…" sputtered Malfoy while pointing at Seraphim.

Harry and Ron burst out laughing. Eventually Neville cracked a small smile.

"Sorry Hagrid. But Malfoy here was being a moron," Seraphim stated plainly.

"What'd he do?"

"Well, Neville fell in the lake and he just stood there so Harry and Ron had to go save him and he was just being useless so I decided to punish him," Seraphim explained.

"Now, now. Don't go doin' that," Hagrid reprimanded. "Set 'im right. An' don't do it again."

Sighing irritably, Seraphim fixed the hex. For the rest of the lesson, they shot evil glares at each other.

The next day, in Magic Theory, Malfoy was out for revenge.

Seraphim was explaining the finer points of how wandless magic helped when one was out in the muggle world while Malfoy was staring pointedly at her inkwell. Concentrating hard, he muttered a few choice words and watched gleefully as the tiny bottle shattered.

Seraphim stopped abruptly. She'd worn her favorite muggle clothing, blue jeans, a baby pink camisole, and an oversized white zip-up jacket, for the lesson and it was covered in black ink droplets.

Taking a deep breath, closing her eyes, and counting to ten, Seraphim stared at the class. After picking a spot on the wall to glare at, she performed a mess-removing charm on her clothes, obviously annoyed.

For the second part of the lesson, the class would be practicing magnifying charms. Each was given a magically shrunken textbook page; the first student to be able to read theirs legibly would receive a prize.

The whole class was soon busy with their tiny pieces of textbook. Seraphim had not said what the prize was, but as we always want what we can't have, the students were eager to get their hands on it.

Malfoy, of course, was not listening. He was busy making tiny balls of parchment and hiding the little arsenal behind his textbooks.

"You may begin," Seraphim waved off-handedly and started back toward her desk when something small and round hit her.

Whirling around, she saw nothing out of the ordinary and continued to her desk.

Five seconds later, another parchment-ball hit her nose. This time, she glared and stood up. She walked around the classroom, half checking the progress of her students and half trying to figure out just who the hell was sending the equivalent of spitballs at her.

Malfoy, of course, hid the little devils in the sleeve of his robe and pretended to be bent over his tiny piece of parchment trying to figure out how to make it grow without using his wand. Seraphim lingered a bit longer behind him, but eventually moved on.

After about ten more of the annoying little beasts, she got up and rummaged around at the bookshelf near her desk. Finding a book containing locator spells, she lay out a sheet of parchment, on which a map of the classroom was drawn, and placed one of the little cannon balls in the middle, muttering to herself. When the next projectile missile hit her, the one on the parchment zoomed to a seat near the back of the room.

"Malfoy," she whispered to herself, irritated.

The little balls from hell, she figured, came pelting at her once every minute and a half or so. After being hit square in the forehead, she counted to ninety and looked up just in time to see Malfoy readying another ball from hell and aiming in her direction.

Upon being caught in the act, he froze. Stalking over to the Slytherin, Seraphim glared her trademark glare. "Mister Malfoy," she began.

"Yes?" he drawled.

"Would you care to explain why you are flicking tiny balls of parchment at me when you are supposed to be magnifying this textbook page?" she pointed to the page in question which was still a tiny little unreadable square.

"Not particularly," he answered.

Seraphim's cheeks gained a little more color. "Will you kindly stop and return to your assignment?" she asked in a sickly sweet, I'll-kill-you-if-you-don't-listen voice.

After a small internal debate, Malfoy smirked. "I don't really feel up to it."

Seraphim nearly hexed him again. "Mister Malfoy, shall I send you to Professor McGonagall for some proper detention?" she hissed loudly. By then the whole class had left their textbook pages and were watching intently.

"A galleon says she jinxes him before kicking him out of class," Ron whispered to Harry.

"That's no fun, you'll win," Harry argued.

"Will you both shut up?" Hermione interjected.

"I'd rather you didn't," Malfoy replied, looking gleefully bored.

"I'd rather you did what you were supposed to be doing Mister Malfoy," Seraphim pulled a spare chair and sat so she was eye level with him. "I'd also rather if you didn't try to make things harder for yourself being as I am allowed to give marks for this class even if I don't give non-academic points or detentions. And for not doing your assignment, I am allowed to give you a zero for the day."

Malfoy's upper lip twitched. He thought about flicking his last parchment-ball at her but decided against it.

"Please perform the magnification charm without your wand," she requested impatiently, hands on her hips.

The class watched, fascinated, as the two tried their hardest not to curse each other.

After another small internal debate, Malfoy muttered the incantation and the piece of parchment doubled in size. "Are you happy now?" he asked smugly.

"Can you read it?" she retorted hotly.

Malfoy shook his head sulkily.

"Well, keep working on it then," she snapped, shrinking the page again. "And ten points from Slytherin for slacking off and not doing your assignment," she added as an afterthought.

Malfoy looked simply livid. "But I magnified it!" he exclaimed.

"Not to my specifications, you didn't," Seraphim retorted.

"But I-"

"Shut your mouth and finish the assignment before I take you to Professor McGonagall for insubordination."

They both looked about ready to commit homicide. Ron had to stifle a loud guffaw, pretending to have sneezed.

Seraphim stalked back to her desk and sat, muttering to herself. The words 'stupid brat' and 'insufferable imbecile' popped up often along with some choice swear words that made everyone raise an eyebrow.

Later that evening, Seraphim was wandering the grounds of the castle and came upon a very beautifully decorated room; the plaque over the doorway read_ Noiemrae_, what she knew to be the Glammish word for 'harmony'. Inside the room were many different musical instruments. There was a baby grand piano, beautifully crafted silver flutes, a lovely oboe, and a Stradivarius-style violin sitting on a stand near a bookshelf alongside a gleaming alto saxophone. On a desk nearby rested an exquisitely designed piccolo trumpet and a gorgeous e flat clarinet.

"Wow," she breathed, reaching for the piccolo. Then she heard footsteps in the hall. Quickly excusing herself from the instrument room, she hid behind a curtain to see who was approaching.

"No way," she gasped. Draco Malfoy had just walked into the room with all of those meticulously kept instruments. Of course she knew that the childhood of a proper pureblood included many extracurricular activities, but Malfoy and music?

Soon the strains of the first movement of Vivaldi's 'Spring' from 'The Four Seasons' drifted through the half-open door.

Malfoy, the current bane of her existence, was playing Vivaldi's 'Spring.' Seraphim raised her eyebrows high. He was not playing. It was impossible. It was music; it was color and life. The melody…it wasn't possible for that boy to be playing that music that way. It just wasn't natural.

Seraphim walked back to the Gryffindor common room in a daze; the strains of 'Spring' haunting her footsteps.

Hooray, that is the end of chapter three. Please leave a review for the poor teenager on summer break who is bored out of her mind because she did not sign up for summer school and has no job. Please? Or some criticism. That always works.

J_a mata!_


	5. Sharps, Flats, and Minors

Goodness me. Summer is so incredibly boring sometimes. I think it'll be a chapter per day for now until I run out of pre-written chapters. Which will be sometime soon. But I lack foresight so pooh.

**Chapter 4: Sharps, Flats, and Minors**

Through the next couple of days, Seraphim found herself pondering the music that seemed to spring from Malfoy's fingertips. He had taken to drumming on his desk in class, or tapping the edge of his quill on his cheek. She found herself paying more acute attention to the way he clucked his tongue at people; rhythm everywhere in everything he did. She was amazed.

When he was sure no one was listening, Seraphim also noticed that his voice took on a different quality. The harsh, commanding tone was replaced by a higher, more lilting tenor voice. The way he spoke, almost as if he were sing-songing but not quite. He spoke more delicately when muttering to himself and taking notes.

She had purchased by mail order a recording of Vivaldi's 'The Four Seasons' and listened to it constantly. The beautiful violin solos stood out vividly each time. Seraphim began trying to transpose them for the flute so she could duet with the recording. She'd filled out sheet after sheet of manuscript paper trying to get it just right.

Seraphim also took to practicing her flute more often. Every once in a while, people would tell her to shut up because they were studying.

One evening, she sat in the common room with Hermione after putting her flute away and beginning on the next week's lesson.

"So, do you think everyone is ready to try some defensive tactics?" Seraphim asked apprehensively.

"Well, you'll probably have to partner people up yourself. If, say, Harry and Malfoy somehow got stuck together, they might kill each other," the younger girl pointed out as she double-checked her Astrology chart.

"True. But do you think the disarming spell is a bit much?"

Before Hermione could answer, Harry and Ron emerged from the portrait hole and sat down. "Bloody hell, Harry, that was some practice," Ron puffed.

"How's everybody doing?" asked Hermione.

"Well, we're off to a bit of a shaky start but I think we'll be in top condition for the first match," Harry mused.

"Ah, Quidditch," Seraphim nodded to herself, enlightened.

"Yeah." Harry leaned back and flopped to the floor. Ron soon followed suit.

"Right, so, _expelliarmus_?" asked Seraphim, turning to Hermione.

"Mmm, as long as you assign partners yourself it should be fine."

"Okay. I'll do that," she made a note before closing her book and lying down alongside Harry and Ron. Hermione, being the only one left sitting, slid down onto her stomach facing the rest of her friends.

"I'm hungry," Ron said suddenly.

Harry thought a moment and nodded his head, "Yeah. Let's go down to the kitchen," he suggested, looking at Seraphim and Hermione.

"Oh, all right," Seraphim got slowly to her feet.

After some coaxing, Hermione agreed to accompany the others to say hello to the house elves and to get something to eat.

"Hey, you there," came a voice from behind just as they were turning the corner leading to the fruit painting, "what are you doing?"

Seraphim turned around. "Ahh, Malfoy."

The blonde nodded tersely. "What are you three doing out of bed at this hour?" he directed his attention to the other Gryffindors.

"We've every right to be out and about as you Malfoy," Hermione replied hotly.

"You and Weasel, sure. But I'm sure Potter isn't allowed out," he smirked.

"Or wouldn't be if I weren't accompanying him," Seraphim sighed off-handedly. Beautiful music or no, he was being a genuine ass.

"Which leads to the question: where are you going?" he sent a piercing look her way.

"The answer is: none of your damn business," she retorted, one hand on her hip. She seethed 'bite me.'

"Excuse me for looking out for a student's well-being," Malfoy sneered.

"Looking for ways to get us in trouble is more like it," Ron glared. "Why don't you just leave us alone, Malfoy?"

"What, Weasley? Haven't I got a right?" he asked, not waiting for an answer. "I'm sure you've been doing something unworthy of the prefect badge." He sniffed.

"Like you're much better?"

Seraphim shook her head. Even though he was a prat, she wasn't supposed to let them jinx each other if she could help it. "All right you two, stop right now," she glared at both of them. "Malfoy, go away and stop bothering us. Ron, don't provoke him anymore, please."

"How come you say 'please' to him and not to me?"

"Because he says 'please' to me and you don't," Seraphim replied sarcastically.

Seemingly out of comebacks, Malfoy sent her a glare coupled with another piercing look that she couldn't quite decipher and turned on his heels.

Without further ado, the quartet entered into the kitchens and was warmly greeted by Dobby.

"Hello Sirs and Misses. What can Dobby do for you today?" He bounced enthusiastically on his toes while dressed in what looked like a patchwork coat of socks.

"Umm, well not much just-" Ron was cut off by another house elf.

"Sirs, Misses! You haves only to say the word and we's is at your service!"

After much discussion, a small table was set and numerous desserts were brought out along with Winky's famous hot chocolate.

"Thanks," said Harry as they settled down.

There were cookies and cakes and pies and other things they couldn't name but that looked delicious. "Well, dig in," said Ron.

Around a chocolate éclair, they discussed their lessons and gave Seraphim a few tips on how to better her teaching.

"So if you just turned Malfoy into a bug or something, I'm sure it'd make life a whole lot easier," Ron concluded, smiling.

Seraphim laughed, "Aunt Minerva would kill me. And he's not so bad."

Ron gaped. "Not so bad?"

Catching her mistake, Seraphim quickly recovered, "When he keeps his mouth shut."

They all had a good laugh at that one. "But he always has something to say," Hermione sighed pityingly.

"Well, I think we better be getting back. Don't want to run into Malfoy when he does his rounds back this way," Harry said, standing up.

"Right."

They all filed out of the portrait hole to the kitchens and bid the house elves good night.

After a small after-party in which Ron fell over a few armchairs in an impersonation of Malfoy being an idiot, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who had to be up the next day for lessons, went to sleep.

In the common room by herself, Seraphim's thoughts began to wander. Mentally cursing the fact that Muggle electronic devices didn't work in Hogwarts and she would not be able to amuse herself with her favorite DVDs as there was no type of television screen to watch them on, she decided to take a walk until she was tired enough to sleep.

Once again slipping out through the portrait, she wandered over to the owlrey. She sat down on a clean spot and called Hedwig over.

"Hello pet," she said softly, gently brushing the feathers nestled against her.

"Why do you think boys are so unreadable?" she asked the snowy owl.

Hedwig just cooed against her cheek.

"You don't know either, huh?" Seraphim sighed, slouching down even further. "I have a feeling he could be nice if someone could just get him to treat them as an equal. I know he thinks he's better than everyone else but he doesn't have a very good home life from what I've heard from Aunt Minerva."

The owl nipped her finger slightly. "Well maybe it is his own fault for never doing something about it. But maybe he's just had it pounded into him so bad that he needs someone else to get it out." Seraphim sighed unhappily and looked at Hedwig.

"Do you have any idea what in the world I'm talking about?" she asked. The owl just nipped her finger again.

Seraphim turned to look out the owlrey window. "Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight. I wish…" she thought a moment, "How should I know what to wish for?"

Hedwig clucked her tongue disapprovingly.

"Oh, all right. I wish…for happiness. How's that?" she asked the owl.

Hedwig did the equivalent of a nod and flew back to her post.

As her company had deserted her, Seraphim got up and walked over to the astronomy tower. Settling down on the edge, she found herself wishing for her flute. The stars were very beautiful and, as there were no lights, she could see just about all of them.

It was so beautiful, so peaceful, up there with no one else, Seraphim jokingly contemplated becoming a hermit. Chuckling to herself and shaking her head, she let her feet dangle over the tower's edge. She would bring someone special up here with her, she decided, when she found her special someone.

Looking at the stars, Seraphim realized that the sun was going to rise in about an hour. Since she still didn't feel up to lying in bed doing nothing, she decided to head over to the best place to watch the sunrise.

Heading back down the tower steps, Seraphim ran into Peeves and, 'just this once', decided to curse him. She giggled at the thought of him turning up in the great hall as a floating pink elephant the next morning.

It was eerie to see the hall so deserted, but Seraphim walked through aided by a small white globe of light she held in her hand.

Slipping out the great double doors of the entrance hall, Seraphim transfigured a bridge of moonlight over the lake. It was a shaky bridge; moonlight wasn't very stable to begin with, but it held until she got across.

Then, after a moment's deliberation on whether or not to go back for a cloak, she began the short hike to the hilltop across from the Herbology greenhouses. That was the best place to watch a sunrise; there was no question. The rays would peek over the horizon until they hit castle's tallest tower and reflected off the lake. It was perhaps the second-most beautiful sight Seraphim had ever witnessed. If she had to be confined to two sights for her entire life, she would choose the night sky and the sunrise.

Seraphim settled on the grass, wet with dew. She didn't mind. She just waited for the sunrise, shivering, a little with cold and a little with anticipation. She felt someone drop a cloak on her.

"You look cold," the voice was familiar, but not familiar.

"It's worth it to see the sunrise," Seraphim turned to see her benefactor and could not control the swift intake of breath that followed.

"It is."

Hmm, I wonder who it is… Haha. Well, please leave a comment of some sort (be it motivational or otherwise). I shall see you all tomorrow hopefully. Bye!


	6. The Lake at Dawn

AN: Finally. This was the plot bunny that bit me and wouldn't go away so I had to devise a whole story to go with this first scene. In the first eleven chapters or so, it's been one of my three favorite scenes to write. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

**Chapter 5: The Lake at Dawn**

"Good morning," Malfoy settled down next to Seraphim on the hill.

"Good morning," Seraphim replied. "And, thank you," she added as an afterthought.

"You're welcome." He seemed to be ignoring her, focusing on the tinge of pink over the castle.

Seraphim stole a glance at him; he looked different in the early morning with the sun's first rays gracing his features. He looked more carefree. The sharp planes of his face were softened by innocent sunshine.

Mentally chiding herself, Seraphim turned back to the sunrise just in time to see the light hit the water. At just that moment, one could see down to the very bottom of the lake. The merpeople were beginning their day and the giant squid was just waking up.

"It's so…" Seraphim closed her eyes for a moment.

"Magnificent," Malfoy finished.

Seraphim turned to look at him, a hint of a true smile playing on his lips as his eyes followed the movements of the merpeople, "Yes. Magnificent."

He turned his silver-gray eyes on her. "What are you doing out so late? Or so early?"

"I could ask the same of you," Seraphim noticed his voice was softer, more relaxed. She felt she could learn to like that voice, that tone.

"To see the sunrise." His answer was simple, simple and true. "It reminds me that-" he stopped himself.

Seraphim waited, her eyes met his inquisitively.

He sighed, "-that not everything is based on favor and power, anyone can see the sunrise." When Seraphim didn't answer, he turned back to the lake.

"Then why do you act the way you act, as if the be all and end all is power?" Seraphim asked finally.

Malfoy looked at her sharply, then he smiled a wry smile. "You don't know my father."

"I've met him once or twice. Very powerful, very set," Seraphim commented.

"Very commanding. He'd probably be furious that I'm conversing civilly with you right now," Malfoy looked thoughtful.

"Does he not have a high opinion of me?" Seraphim raised an eyebrow.

Malfoy shook his head. "I doubt he knows of you. Just the fact that you're in with Potter, Weasley, and Granger is enough."

"What's wrong with them?"

"My father believes that only purebloods should be allowed to study magic. Also, one who associates themselves with mudbloods and half-bloods are no better than the company they keep."

"And do you believe that?" Seraphim sniffed.

"I-" the blonde shook his head, smiling ruefully, "I'm in no position to answer that question."

"And why not? You have a voice and an opinion."

"My father wouldn't approve. 'I must act the perfect son,'" he recited out of habit. "'My actions must reflect my station. I am a Malfoy. My duty to my family is to serve. I-'"

"Just because you're pureblood and rich to boot," she tut-tutted.

"Get off your soapbox. If I wanted to hear preaching, I'd have gone to Granger," Malfoy replied snappily.

"Then why did you come here? You could have gone somewhere else to see the sunrise. This isn't the only hill where it's breathtaking," Seraphim stood slowly, dropping Malfoy's cloak, and made to head back for the castle.

"I-" he looked over her shoulder and back to her eyes. "You looked cold," he shrugged.

"If you'd stop being such a selfish ass, maybe you'd see that people don't hate you. They just think you hate them," Seraphim retorted. "There are some people who would be your friends, but you push them away because you find them beneath you."

"That isn't true," Malfoy shot back, something burned in his eyes. "They see my father, they see my family; they don't see me. They don't see me so I don't see them. It's a fair deal."

"It doesn't seem very fair to anyone," Seraphim replied softly. "But then, you wouldn't listen to me anyway, we don't see eye-to-eye and we can't convince each other of anything."

Malfoy looked at her, puzzled.

"Harry, Ron, and Hermione think they know you. They think you're selfish and that you hide behind your father and your family. Maybe they're right. But maybe they're not. I don't know because you don't let anyone find out," she sniffed again. "Maybe we're not so different."

"What?" Malfoy had just bent over to pick his cloak up from the ground. "We're as different as…as apples and oranges."

"Which are both fruits. You don't let people in for God knows what reason. I don't let too many people in because I don't trust them. That's just the way I am. But I like Harry and Ron and Hermione. And I like you, for some unknown reason," Seraphim began the walk back to the castle. "I don't know if you seriously dislike us or if you just begrudge us for our friendship, but either way, I'd hoped we could be friends."

Malfoy took a deep breath and caught Seraphim's wrist. "What are you talking about?"

"I don't like to make enemies, and I'd like to fix whatever it is that ensures our aversion to each other. I'm not sure what started the feud between you and the others, but I'm sure it can be mended with time," she looked him in the eye.

He sent her that piercing look again, drawing her closer. "What if I don't want to be friends?" he smirked as an unsaid implication passed between the two. A soft mist formed between his lips and hers.

"Then what do you want?" Seraphim looked up, Malfoy was taller than her by a good six or seven inches, but was still defiant.

Malfoy was taken aback, why couldn't she be properly insulted when he made fun of her? He supposed verbally seducing her insincerely wasn't the best way to insult a girl as it could be taken in the wrong way, but that didn't mean she couldn't go along with it.

Malfoy's confidence wavered. She looked so sure of herself. She knew exactly who she was; she had no one to tell her who to be. Seraphim was an open book in a different language to him. She was different. It was a terrible word to use, but she was different.

Still looking her in the eye, Malfoy sighed, "I don't know."

"Tell me when you do," Seraphim turned and headed back to the castle.

Dragging her feet in for breakfast, Seraphim spotted her friends sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table.

"Hey, we saved you a seat," Ron waved her over. She settled in between Harry and Hermione and yawned.

Hermione passed her the hotcakes, "Where were you this morning? We went to wake you up and you were gone."

"Oh, I was watching the, um, sunrise," Seraphim saw the doors of the hall open again. In walked Malfoy, looking slightly disheveled but none the worse for wear.

"Was it nice?" asked Harry.

"Hm? Yes, it was," she glanced discreetly at Malfoy who was walking across the room to the Slytherin table. The familiar cocky air had reformed about his person.

"Are you all right?" Hermione tapped Seraphim's elbow.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just didn't sleep last night. Walked around the castle and went out to see the sunrise. Thank goodness I don't have any classes today," she smiled.

Her eyes met Malfoy's as he passed their table. An unspoken, indecipherable debate raged between them, he scowled. Blinking, Seraphim turned back to Ron who had asked her if she wanted a scone.

"Yes please," she replied, taking the proffered pastry.

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"Mmhmm, yeah, fine," Seraphim smiled. "Just tired I guess, I'll go up and sleep after breakfast." Her gaze wavered again, Malfoy had just settled in between Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini.

Hermione gave Harry and Ron an I-think-I-know-something-you-don't-know look. "If you say so."

At the Slytherin table, it was much the same story.

"Where were you all night, Draco?" Pansy passed him a muffin.

"Walking," he answered in his usual tone.

Blaise picked up the cloak Draco had dragged in with him. "You went out?"

"Yes," he nodded tersely.

"Where?" Blaise inspected the coat, "This has grass stains on it."

"None of your business," he replied, reaching for some pumpkin juice. He kept glancing over to the Gryffindor table.

"Wonder Trio give you a hard time on the rounds last night?" asked Pansy, noticing where Draco's gaze went.

"Nothing I couldn't handle," he sneered half-heartedly, which was the truth. His brief encounter with them the previous evening left him no worse for wear. It was the meeting with their seeming guardian angel that had left him ruffled.

"If you're sure," she shrugged, buttering some toast and turning to participate in a gossip.

"Are you _sure_ you're all right?" asked Hermione after she caught Seraphim staring aimlessly across the room.

"Hm? Yes, I'm sure," Seraphim quickly focused her eyes on the head table. "I was just, um, daydreaming."

"Sure," Ron wiggled his eyebrows comically. "We all know about your secret love affair with Malfoy over there." He chuckled, gesturing at the Slytherin table.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly Ron, I know what Fleur sees in you but I can't see how," she sighed.

"She thinks he's devilishly handsome," Harry stated, grinning.

"And she loves his sparkling wit," Hermione added airily.

"And, of course," Seraphim said seriously, "he's quite funny."

Ron thanked Seraphim for the compliment and mock-glared at Harry and Hermione. "She does think I'm devilishly handsome, she does love my sparkling wit, and, yes, she likes me most because I'm comical," he ran a hand through his hair sheepishly.

"What are they laughing about?" Malfoy muttered to himself, idly picking out a scone.

"What are who laughing about, Draco?" asked Blaise.

"No one," he scowled, rising from the table. "I'm not very hungry. I'll see you all in Charms."

After snatching his cloak from the spot next to him, Malfoy headed for the doors of the hall. On his way out, he sent Seraphim another piercing look, like a half-hearted glare.

"What was that for?" asked Harry, leaning over the table.

"What?" Seraphim tried to appear oblivious.

"The look Malfoy just gave you," Hermione pointed out briskly.

Seraphim looked down at her hands. "I really have no clue," she said finally.

Ron and Harry looked somewhat puzzled; Hermione, however, smirked rather smugly and looked from where Malfoy had exited and back to Seraphim.

After following Hermione's gaze, Seraphim, Ron, and Harry looked at the other girl as if she'd lost a few marbles.

"What is it?" asked Harry finally.

Hermione shook her head and smiled. "Nothing, nothing."

"Oh, now you're being impossible to read," Ron feigned resentment and whispered to Harry on the side, "What is it with girls, mate?"

Hermione shook her head while Seraphim waited for her opinion.

None of them got what they wanted, however, as the bell to begin classes rang. Hermione tapped Seraphim on the shoulder and told her, "I'd like a word with you about this later, all right?"

Seraphim sighed helplessly, trapped, and said, "If you insist."

Seemingly satisfied, Hermione dragged Harry and Ron off before they could ask either girl what 'this' was.

Seraphim gathered her thoughts and bid her friends goodbye, making for the Gryffindor tower and some sleep.

Upon exiting the hall, she was surprised to find Malfoy muttering to himself near the doors. She walked over casually and tapped him on the shoulder.

"You should get to class, you're going to be late," she pointed out.

Malfoy's jaw twitched, "I'll be fine."

Seraphim assumed Girly Pose #3, one hand on the corresponding hip, legs locked at shoulder width, and head cocked to the side, "You'll be late for class."

"Do you think I care?" he asked hotly. "I'm trying to think here."

"Excuse me for, what was it? Oh yes, 'looking out for a student's well-being'," she quoted for him.

Malfoy rolled his eyes, "Flitwick won't notice if I'm late. I'm in the middle of the list for roll."

"All the more reasons for me to insist you get there."

Malfoy opened his mouth; then shut it. "You know what? Fine." He turned to leave.

Seraphim stood, bewildered. "What is wrong with you?" she followed him along the hallway.

"Nothing," he picked up his pace. Seraphim jogged to keep up.

"I'm just trying to-"

"Well you're not," he replied icily. "Just because we conversed politely does not make us friends. Or unmake us enemies. Understand?"

Seraphim glared at him, "If that's how you want it." Then, in a huff, she turned on her heels and walked away.

Malfoy stared at her retreating figure, "That's exactly how I want it."

****

Aah, almost my favorite chapter so far. Ho hum. As always, please leave a review and tell me what you thought. Good night!


	7. Dancing in My Dreams

**Chapter 6: Dancing in My Dreams**

Hermione flopped down on the common room couch, grabbing a pillow to rest her head on. Seraphim soon followed suit, groaning.

"What's wrong?" asked Hermione, rolling over to face her friend.

Seraphim mumbled something incomprehensibly; Hermione caught the words 'blonde', 'brat', and 'imbecile.'

"Malfoy?" Hermione prompted.

Seraphim just growled.

"If you hate him so much-" Hermione was cut off.

"But I don't hate him. I think. I don't know," Seraphim admitted disgustedly. "It's like… I don't even know. He's a…he's just such a pain in the ass sometimes, but. I don't know; I want to get to know him. I want to make him a good person. And, and I kind of want to, well, but…I don't and… Do you see me?" she pointed to herself, "I haven't acted like this since I was eleven. I have not been this confused over a part of the male species for five years. And now…" Seraphim continued to mutter furiously to herself.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Ahem, well. If you don't not like him the what's the problem?"

"I don't know if I don't not like him," Seraphim replied. "I don't even know if I don't not _dislike_ him."

Hermione thought a moment, figuring out the meaning of Seraphim's last two statements, before opening her mouth. "Er…"

"Exactly," Seraphim sighed. "It's... It's like being forced to dance with someone you hate and realizing that, together, you have the perfect rhythm. It defies…everything."

Hermione pondered the new information. "Lovely," was all she could think to say.

"It's unfair. He doesn't even seem fazed. Of course he probably wouldn't be romantically interested in me anyway," Seraphim began to pace around the room. "I swear; if I ever find a way, I'll make the whole male half of the species wish they'd never been born." Her energy reaching its zenith, she toppled over.

Harry and Ron, who had just walked in, looked at the two girls, then at each other, and wisely went up to their dormitory.

"Well, I've got to be going to Charms and you've got History of Magic," Hermione stood, gathering her books.

Seraphim groaned. "This day keeps getting better and better."

"Don't I know it," Hermione waved goodbye as they parted in front of the fat lady.

Seraphim made her way to the History of Magic classroom, ready to be bored to tears by Professor Binns' lecturing technique. Sighing, she picked a seat in the back left-hand corner and plopped down. Taking out a notebook and a quill, she proceeded to copy the notes Professor Binns had written on the board.

Soon the lecture began. Professor Binns was going on about some peace treaty between dwarves and goblins five hundred years ago. Seraphim could not see the relevancy. Who wanted to know if the goblin leader had four kids or six? Why was it important to know that the color of the royal family was fuchsia?

Slowly, her head sank to the desk. Looking from the corners of her eyes, Seraphim saw Professor Binns write something on his blackboard. She should really copy it down. It might be somewhat important; but she was tired… 'Five minutes,' she told herself; that was all the catnap she needed.

Two hours later, Seraphim was freaking out in her bedroom with poor Hermione as her comfort. A strange dream in History of Magic had thoroughly unnerved her.

"I was in the great hall," she began, "but the tables were all gone. It must have been the middle of the night because the ceiling was filled with stars. The moon was slightly covered by some wispy clouds.

"Then I noticed that someone was with me. There was a boy, or a man perhaps. He was tall with broad shoulders, but a lean build. I couldn't see the rest of him because he was a silhouette of the night sky. The only things I could see were his eyes. They were like mercury.

"He held out his hands to me and there was music. It was like bells and the wind and laughter. But it was also like violins and tears and loneliness. We began to dance. It was a slow dance, a waltz or something like it. He was a wonderful dancer, I felt like we were flying. It was exhilarating. Soon, we began to rise off the floor.

"I noticed then that each of us had wings. They were large, like angels' wings, but clear as glass. They reflected the starlight like bubbles, or the way oil bends plain white light into a rainbow of colors. We floated up until I was sure we would hit the ceiling.

"Then, we floated up through the first cloud bank. Our feet brushed the tops of the clouds; they trailed after us in wisps like smoke. The music stopped.

"He was far away from me, maybe the width of this room, and every time I stepped toward him, he stepped back. It was like he was waiting for something. I started talking to him but he wouldn't answer me. Then to moon went out.

"He began walking toward me, slowly. When he was right in front of me, he stopped. We were almost touching but he wouldn't come any closer. He held out his hand to me again, the faint starlight gave it a ghost-like quality. They were strong hands, with long, slender fingers. I took the one he offered me and clasped the one at his side.

"At that moment, color began to spread from his fingertips to the rest of him. It was like dropping ink on a piece of parchment and seeing it spread. Before the color reached his face, he leaned in to kiss me on the cheek. It was a light, soft kiss.

"When he stepped back, I saw immaculately kept blonde hair, the mercury eyes, high cheekbones, and an aristocratic nose. Oh my God, Hermione," Seraphim put her face in her hands as a sign of defeat, "it was Malfoy."

Hermione merely nodded at her friend and, after a moment's debate, excused herself. Two minutes later, she returned with either Ron's or Harry's divination textbook.

"I don't want a scientific explanation," Seraphim stated. "I want it to stop."

"Well you can either accept that you are somewhat attracted to the little slimeball or you can torture yourself by being in denial," Hermione said.

"I know I'm in denial," Seraphim pointed out. "Does it still count as denial if I know I'm in denial?"

"I don't know. The point is you are in denial and, until you are out of it, you will continue to have this little problem with Malfoy," Hermione replied.

Seraphim opened her mouth, thought a while, and shut it again.

"Perhaps you would have a better grasp on your acceptance of your feelings for Malfoy if you knew his feelings for you?" Hermione suggested.

"I don't know. I didn't tell you about the morning at the lake, did I?"

Hermione shook her head.

"You know the morning he gave me that look?" Seraphim asked.

Hermione nodded.

"Well, I was out all night and I climbed the hill by the Herbology greenhouses to watch the sunrise. All of a sudden, there's this cloak on me and Malfoy is settling down next to me to watch. Then we have a civil conversation before he slips up and insults me and I stalk back to the castle," Seraphim finished miserably.

"Aha," Hermione raised an eyebrow. "And did you enjoy the conversation?"

"I don't know. I guess I could get to like him if he were like that all the time but…"

"So you did enjoy talking to him," Hermione pointed out.

"He says we judge him by his family," Seraphim said after a long pause. "He says he judges us by our company because that's how we judge him."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "I doubt it."

"You should have seen him. He said it so sincerely. But then, he's such a well, you know, to me sometimes," Seraphim growled. "I don't know how to interpret him at all."

"Then don't try." Hermione said it so simply that Seraphim did not believe her ears.

"How do I not try to interpret him? It's almost my job."

"It is not your job," Hermione reprimanded. "It's just something you try to do because that's the way you are. You like to know things, like me."

"That still doesn't change the fact that I have no idea what to do about the whole situation," Seraphim sighed.

"No, it doesn't," Hermione, agreed, looking at the wall clock. "Well, let's talk it over at dinner, I'm starved. And I'm sure Ron and Harry would love to help."

"Not," Seraphim rolled her eyes, rising.

Hermione giggled. It was nice being one of the guys, but having a close girl friend was a definite plus.

Sitting at the Gryffindor table, Seraphim and Hermione exchanged several looks which Harry and Ron ignored, passing it off as a decidedly female thing.

Professor Dumbledore rose as everyone was seated. "Ahem," he cleared his throat. "I'm sure you all have heard from your other Professors that this year's Halloween Celebration will be quite different. As the Yule Ball during the Triwizard Tournament was vastly enjoyed, we have decided to replace the Halloween Feast with a ball. Costumes may be worn but are not necessary. I hope you will all find it enjoyable." He smiled at the students, some of who were whispering fiercely with their friends. "And now, let's eat."

The murmur that had carried underneath the professor's voice turned into quite a commotion as students excitedly discussed costumes and who would go with whom. Seraphim smiled softly, she'd attended the previous Yule Ball as a spectator. It was nice to see everyone dressed up and she looked forward to going to the Halloween Ball.

Seraphim's thoughts were interrupted when Hermione elbowed her lightly in the ribs, "Why don't you ask him to the ball?"

Hermione was met with a stare that was half disbelief and half horror. "What?"

"I said 'why don't you ask him to the ball?'" Hermione repeated slowly.

Seraphim blanched and shook her head. "No. Call me a coward or call me old-fashioned, but no."

"Why not?" Hermione leaned forward.

"Because," Seraphim bit her bottom lip and looked away, fiddling with her glasses.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Come on, why not?"

"He's a boy and it's traditional for boys to ask girls," Seraphim stated, trying to think of a good explanation.

"Yes, maybe ten, fifteen years ago. Now it is perfectly normal for a girl to ask a boy out," Hermione said reasonably.

"But I don't want to," Seraphim replied giving Hermione her patented puppy-dog eyes.

Hermione pursed her lips and thought a moment. "Why don't you go with someone else and make him jealous?" she suggested, grinning quite deviously.

Seraphim raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you supposed to be the good, angelic one?" she asked.

"Only part of the time. Besides, living with those two," Hermione gestured at Harry and Ron who were obliviously talking about what kind of costumes might be good for a Halloween Ball, "kind of corrupts you."

Seraphim nodded, raising the other eyebrow. "What kind of someone else?" she inquired curiously. She rather missed the mischief of Darius, Lillian, and Jesse, a chance to be an imp for a while was very intriguing.

"A good-looking boy. Maybe someone Malfoy doesn't like very much," a smile crept to Hermione's lips.

"You do realize that you haven't really narrowed it down much, right?" Seraphim pointed out. "I mean there are maybe a total of seven boys that he tolerates."

"Who are good-looking?" asked Hermione.

"Well…" Seraphim thought, "That's still a lot of guys."

"Think about it, someone who is single. It should be someone who Malfoy really doesn't like, maybe bordering on someone who he hates. Someone who is good-looking and popular enough to pose a threat to the 'silver prince of Slytherin'," Hermione watched Seraphim's face intently.

A smirk slowly spread across Seraphim's face and a thoughtful look lit her eyes. "The 'golden boy of Gryffindor'?" she asked.

"Bingo. And I'm sure that once you tell him what's going on, he'll be delighted to help you," Hermione was ecstatic at the prospect of matchmaking.

Seraphim looked from Harry to the Slytherin table and grinned. "I think it's a great idea. I'll ask him tomorrow."

The two girls clinked goblets and smiled. It was going to be an interesting Halloween.


	8. Before the Ball

AN: I'm giving up with the bold, italics because I don't know how to work them. :tear: Anyway, here is chapter number seven! It was quite fun to write, if not something of a pain to get somewhat-right. I hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 7: Before the Ball**

The next day in class, while passing back homework assignments, Seraphim slipped Harry a note.

'Meet me in the Room of Requirement tonight at ten. I've got a favor to ask of you. Thanks, S.'

Harry made eye contact with Seraphim and nodded, wondering what could be so secret. He was snapped out of his reverie when Seraphim announced they had ten minutes to finish their assignment, making a snow globe swirl perpetually.

Later that night, Harry found Seraphim pacing in the Room of Requirement even though there were big armchairs, a coffee table laden with snacks, and a roaring fire in the fireplace.

Hanging up his invisibility cloak on the coat rack that appeared to his right, Harry tapped Seraphim on the shoulder. "Sorry, were you waiting long?"

Seraphim jumped and looked at Harry. "Oh, um, well I got here early just in case and, eh, sit down." She led him to the fireplace and hurriedly poured them some tea.

"You wanted to talk to me about something?" Harry asked after a brief, awkward silence.

"Um, yes." Seraphim shifted and sipped her tea uncomfortably.

"Well?" Harry leaned forward, "Why couldn't you tell me in class? Or in the common room?"

"Please don't laugh and don't criticize me. I've done enough criticizing to myself for everyone, even Ron," Seraphim got up and started pacing again.

Harry rolled his eyes, "Just tell me already."

"I guess I should start at the beginning," Seraphim muttered to herself. "I was walking around the castle that night you and the others were studying for your potions exam about a month ago."

Harry nodded to show he remembered.

"Well, I found a room that was just…it was exquisite. There were beautifully crafted musical instruments everywhere. I was about to try one of them when I heard footsteps. I excused myself and hid behind the draperies of one of the windows. I saw Malfoy enter the room seconds after I'd hidden.

"I was about to go in and ask him what he was doing in there and warn him not to damage the instruments when I heard music. It was honest-to-God music produced by Malfoy. It was violin music, really good violin music, really, really good violin music." Seraphim started pulling on loose strands of her hair.

"After that, I observed him. I saw how he drummed his fingers on his desk, the rhythm in which he spoke, the change of voice he used while muttering to himself as opposed to speaking with other people. I watched him to figure him out. I just got more confused," Seraphim looked at Harry.

He nodded to show he understood what she was saying, though he was still a little confused, and encouraged her to continue.

"Then," Seraphim continued, "that night we went down to the kitchens, a couple weeks ago. Afterwards I wasn't tired, so I took a walk. I went to the owlrey and the Astronomy tower and then to the hill across the Herbology greenhouses to see the sunrise. It was cold when I sat down but I figured it was worth it to watch a Hogwart's sunrise.

"I felt a cloak being dropped on me. After turning around, I saw it was Malfoy. He explained that I looked cold. We actually had a civil conversation. I had a civil conversation with Draco Malfoy. Those words don't belong in the same sentence unless there is a negative in there, but it happened. Then we had a disagreement and I left but something about talking to him was different from talking with you guys. The feeling, the connection, was different."

Seraphim stopped pacing and looked at her feet, "A few days ago I fell asleep in History of Magic and I had a dream. I was dancing with a person I couldn't see in the great hall and we floated up through the ceiling to the clouds. He leaned in to kiss me and, when we parted, I saw his face. It was, well, it was Malfoy."

Seraphim bit her lip nervously, looking in Harry's direction.

The expression crossing Harry's face was a cross of amusement, antipathy, and disbelief. "So let me get this straight," he said finally, "you fancy Malfoy."

Seraphim tried to avoid Harry's eyes. "Well, in short, yes."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Damned if I know," Seraphim sat, putting her hands in her face.

"You do realize he's one of the most foul students in the school. And he has an obvious dislike for you," Harry pointed out.

"Yes."

"And you're still willing to pursue a relationship with him?" Harry looked incredulous.

"Um, yes…" Seraphim squeaked. She could tell Harry was having a very fierce internal debate over helping a friend achieve happiness and giving a sworn enemy a second chance. Seraphim was very lucky that Harry was such a nice, trusting, supportive friend.

"Well, the sorting hat did say that we'll need to unite if we're going to win the war," he ran a hand through his messy hair. "Are you positive you want this?"

Seraphim nodded.

Harry sighed, "As I'm an honorary Weasley and your partner in crime, what's the plan?"

Seraphim threw her arms around Harry. "Oh thank you, thank you," she kissed his cheek. "I thought you'd disapprove."

Harry thought a moment. "Well, I'm more surprised. I might be a little disgusted later but I won't disapprove. It's your life," he blinked. Of course, it would take some getting used to.

"Okay," Seraphim moved to sit in her armchair. "Now for a plan."

"What exactly did you have in mind?" Harry questioned.

"Well it's quite simple really, Hermione came up with it," Seraphim explained. "Will you go to the Halloween Ball with me, Harry?"

Realization dawned on him, "You want to make him jealous?"

"Of course. Think about it, Hermione thinks he's attracted to me in one way or another, be it physical or intellectual, why else would he converse politely with me? So if I show up on the arm of a popular, handsome, all-around great guy, what will he think?" Seraphim smirked, hoping the flattery was working too.

Harry soon followed suit. "That is an excellent idea. And I won't have to worry about finding a date. Shall we go all out and pretend to be a couple say, a week before the ball?"

Seraphim thought a moment. "Will that be looked-down upon? I mean I am sort of your professor."

"Well not really. You're like one of the assistant seventh-years," Harry argued.

"Hm, agreed," Seraphim and Harry shook hands.

Over the next couple weeks, Seraphim and Harry were seen walking arm-in-arm and whispering to each other between classes. Hermione and Ron, who were also going together, would often join them after dinner to go over costume ideas.

"How about we go as muggles?" suggested Ron, thoroughly out of ideas.

"That's silly," Seraphim replied.

"Why don't you two go as Romeo and Juliet during the masked ball scene?" suggested Hermione, pointing to Harry and Seraphim.

"My dad likes that book," said Ron, wrinkling his nose. "But the alchemist was an idiot. He should have known Juliet wasn't dead."

"It's a good idea," Harry replied, ignoring his best friend.

"Why don't you guys go as…" Seraphim thought. Seeing Ron's red hair gave her an idea, "Peter Pan and Wendy."

Harry snorted. "Yes, do."

Hermione and Ron looked at each other. A smirk to rival Malfoy's rose to each of their lips.

"I like it," Hermione grinned.

"So, we've got a week to get our costumes ready, get cracking everyone."

The night of the ball, Hermione and Seraphim were in the latter's room making use of her private bathroom to get ready.

Hermione's bushy hair was tamed and part of it was pinned to the side to show her face. Her make-up was minimal as Wendy was a youthful character, barely out of her childhood. Light blue enhanced her eyes, a sprinkling of glitter, and some lip-gloss and she was done.

Her costume itself was modeled after a 'movie.' Long, flowing robes of a light satiny material graced her slim form. Her outer cloak was a turquoise while the dress itself was a sky blue. When the cloak was removed, Hermione's dress revealed slightly puffed sleeves and tiny turquoise ribbons. The traditional golden chain with the acorn pendant was displayed in full.

Hermione had spent a full hour dolling Seraphim up, "So you can knock Malfoy's socks off." Her make-up was more mysterious than Hermione's. Glasses replaced by contact lenses, dark blue liner on her eyes, silver dusted the lids, and a tiny diamond star gracing the outside corner of her right eye. A deep, blood red lipstick that Hermione described as 'sexy' graced her lips.

Seraphim's hair was also one of Hermione's masterpieces. Her hair was mostly piled up on her head in an elaborate up-do. Tiny braid criss-crossed to form a pattern that looked like vines with tendrils snaking down to frame her face. Star-shaped diamond stud earrings and a silver chain with a matching pendant were her jewelry.

Her dress was also exquisite. Seraphim was dressed in silver. A princess seam on silver satin covered by sheer silver chiffon hugged her upper body and fanned out near her hips. The small silver stars embroidered on the top grew more numerous as one looked lower down the dress, finally stopping at her ankles. Her wrists were wrapped in silver satin ribbons that criss-crossed up to her elbows like a ballerina's toe shoes, the ends hung down in elegant strands. Her feet were also clad in silver toe shoes. Sheer ribbons, crossing once behind her, held up her dress.

As she was posing as Juliet, Seraphim had opted for a mask since the famous couple first met at a masquerade ball. Her mask was satiny white adorned with silver and pearlecent ribbons and tiny sequined stars. The ribbons flowed gracefully behind her as she danced around the room, laughing.

Harry and Ron soon entered the girls' room, eager to be off.

Ron had gone all-out in his costume. He had the green hat with the silly red feather perched lopsidedly on his head. The green, short-sleeved tunic was secured by a brown leather belt. He held a small reed flute that Hermione and Seraphim doubted he knew how to play. He even wore the green tights with the leather shoes.

"It's a good thing you work out on the Quidditch field so much Ron," Seraphim commented, tucking a copy of _Romeo and Juliet_ in her bureau. "You've got pretty nice legs."

Turning scarlet, Ron merely glared.

Harry was dressed in a scarlet shirt that billowed at the arms. Instead of buttons down the front, it was tied at the top with two silk strings. Fitted black pants covered his legs and ended in matching leather boots. The pants were embroidered at the hem with tiny gold and crimson flames. In one hand he held brown leather gloves and a hat, in the other was his mask. It was a burgundy and decorated sparsely with deep red and black feathers. His hat was an earthy color and a bright red plume curled up out of the brim.

Taking Seraphim's arm, swirling his black velvet cloak, and securing his mask, he turned to Ron and Hermione. "Shall we be off?"

Seraphim giggled, this masquerade, literally and figuratively, would be most amusing.

Ron and Hermione nodded, giggling. "Come on then Wendy, I'll teach you to fly."

The quartet quickly exited Seraphim's room to meet the rest of the Gryffindors attending the ball. When they reached the doors of the great hall, hurried glances of excitement were exchanged.

Hesitating, Seraphim reached for the door. "Well guys, here we go."

Pushing the huge doors open, they entered the great hall.

So that's chapter seven. J I hope you liked it. If you did, please review and say so. If you didn't, tell me why so I'm not left hanging. (Although cliffhangers are a great way to end chapters, they are not good for writers who want to know how they're doing.)


	9. Halloween Scare

**Chapter 8: Halloween Scare**

The great hall had been transformed into a ballroom of sorts. Guests were being escorted to a grand staircase where they were introduced as whatever they were dressed up as. Each person would write down the names and identities of as many people as possible; at the end, a prize would be given to the person with the most correct matches.

The ceiling, instead of reflecting the clear night sky, held a beautiful nighttime canopy of leaves. Vines trickled down the walls onto what looked like ruins of great temples. Balls of light, perhaps fireflies, were flickering in lanterns on tables that sprouted from the ground. The scent of pikake and sandalwood filled the air and made one dizzy.

Just before Ron and Hermione were announced, Seraphim grabbed a clear marble off a display, muttered something, and handed it to Ron. The marble began to glow and would not be shooed more than eight inches from him. Ron raised an eyebrow.

"Tinker bell."

"Peter Pan and Wendy Darling," announced Madam Hooch, who was dressed like a character muggles called 'cat girl.'

Instead of walking down the stairs like normal people, Ron dragged Hermione to the banister. They let out an all mighty 'whoop!' as they slid down to the bottom.

Shaking her head, Madam Hooch turned to Harry and Seraphim. "Ah," she said, "Romeo and Juliet."

Harry took Seraphim's hand and they went to meet Ron and Hermione. They quickly settled down at a table for four. Soon they were talking and laughing while waiting for the food to be served.

Dumbledore clapped his hands. He was dressed as a jester, complete with bells on his shoes and the ridiculous hat. "Settle down, settle down. Now," he raised his wand, and a shower of silver sparks rained down on everyone, "let the ball begin!"

As at the Yule Ball, guests ordered from a menu that magically appeared on their plates. The excited chatter that could only belong to schoolchildren rang throughout the hall.

"So, part one, complete," Harry whispered to Seraphim. "Target sighted yet?"

Seraphim giggled. "We're not secret agents," she replied. "But yes, he's behind you a couple tables down."

"Do I look good enough to threaten his status as 'most attractive male'?" Harry grinned cheekily.

Seraphim looked him over appraisingly. "Yes, you are dead sexy. Now let's finish eating so we can show off those dance moves Hermione took a whole week to teach us."

"Draco, you're not eating," said Pansy Parkinson a moment later. Being the mother of the Slytherin bunch was so demanding at times. But being the only female Draco would tolerate, she accepted the position with little complaint.

"I'm aware of that," he replied tersely, glowering at a shock of distinctly red hair. He'd spotted the fantastic four when they entered; who would be so childish as to slide down the banister besides The Weasel? And the couple who followed was easily the golden boy and…well he didn't have a nickname for her yet, but he'd think of something.

"You should eat Draco, you know how your mother gets," Pansy reprimanded.

Draco picked at his food. "I'm trying to think, all right?"

Sighing and realizing defeat, Pansy turned to Blaise and attempted to initiate a conversation with the other insufferable in her charge. Being female was really not all it was cut out to be. She saw Draco sneaking glances over her shoulder. She wasn't stupid; she knew who was sitting there, the dream team. The dream team and the guardian angel, but that wasn't all; she knew what he was thinking too. 'Why is she laughing at what he says? Why won't she laugh for me?' Pansy giggled to herself, sometimes it paid to be the supporting actress. She saw everything and she knew Draco much too well.

Turning away from Blaise, Pansy pinched her friend.

"Ow! What was that for?" Draco glared.

"I'm not blind you know, and I know it's not me you keep looking at," she tossed her hair, "attractive as I am." Her message was clear.

"Leave me alone."

"What's going on here that I don't know about?" asked Blaise.

Before Pansy could give her explanation, Draco rose and stalked to the other side of the room. He would figure himself out in peace, nix Pansy's all-knowing act.

"So, what's this about?" asked Blaise again, after Draco had disappeared.

"Isn't it obvious?" Pansy replied, rolling her eyes.

"No."

"He's practically head-over-heels for McGonagall's niece. He just doesn't know it yet because he's male and a Malfoy," Pansy tut-tutted.

"I suppose you know best because you're female and a Parkinson then?"

"No, I know best because I'm female and his surrogate mother," she shot back. They were an odd couple, bickering most times and seldom agreeing.

The music in the room intensified and couples gradually gravitated to the dance floor. Harry held his hand out to Seraphim.

"Lady Juliet?"

"My Lord Romeo," she replied, accepting the offer. Harry led her to the dance floor where a neo-classical waltz was playing. From beneath the mask of Zorro, two gray-blue eyes followed the dancing couple.

"If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine," whispered Harry, quoting the bard, "the gentle fine is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss."

Seraphim laughed. "Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this; for saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss," she replied as she spun just out of reach.

Catching hold of Seraphim's outstretched hand, Harry twirled her into face him, "Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?"

"Ay, pilgrim," Seraphim spun again so that their hands met in front of her as they both faced the ballroom entrance, "lips that they must use in prayer."

"O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do," Harry murmured into Seraphim's hair, "they pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair."

Turning to look her partner in the eye Seraphim replied, "Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake."

Harry rose an eyebrow, " Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take. Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged." So saying, he spun Seraphim again so that they faced each other. Keeping an eye on the shadow that was Malfoy, they swayed.

After hesitating a moment, Seraphim whispered the next line, "Then have my lips the sin that they have took."

"Sin from thy lips?" asked Harry. "Oh trespass sweetly urged…"

Seraphim felt the eyes on her back, the mercury eyes. But blinking to look up into bottle green, she tilted her head to allow a fleeting kiss.

"Give me my sin again," was Romeo's request. Harry allowed a small, lopsided smile to grace his lips.

They spun again, Seraphim met the gaze of a masked man she immediately knew to be Malfoy. His intense stare startled her. The way he watched her, glaring at them. Perhaps Hermione was wrong and he had no interest in her whatsoever.

Harry was looking at her questioningly again. With a smirk, she pecked him on the cheek.

"You missed," he told her.

Giggling, Seraphim pouted, "Aw, poor baby. Did you want it on the lips?"

Without waiting for an answer, Seraphim tiptoed up to brush his lips with hers. "Better?"

A cheeky grin assured her all was well, their fuming spectator notwithstanding.

When the song ended, Harry led Seraphim back to the table where Ron and Hermione applauded softly.

"Very good dancing," said Ron. "I knew you two would get it right eventually, what with all the teaching Hermione gave you."

"When did you ever have the time to memorize 'Romeo and Juliet'?" asked Hermione, ignoring Ron and looking at Harry amusedly.

"Oh, we thought it would be fun to, um, you know and that it would help with…other things," Seraphim threw Harry a conspiratorial glance.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "And did it help with those other things?"

Seraphim averted her gaze, "I don't think so."

Hermione chanced a look and rolled her eyes. "You're so naïve," she turned to face Seraphim again, patting her on the head like an obedient dog, "he's fuming at the fact that you gave Harry a couple of kisses."

Ron looked over in the direction that had previously held Hermione's gaze. One could almost see the wheels in his head turning and reaching the inevitable conclusion. "You're trying to make Malfoy jealous?" he asked finally.

Seraphim nodded and bit her lip.

"Why?" Ron raised an eyebrow, what was the point of making Malfoy jealous? Unless she wanted to lord it over him but, he'd already found out, she wasn't the 'point and laugh' type; Seraphim was more the 'bad karma happens and when it does you'll know it was because of this' type.

"Now Ron," said Hermione briskly, "don't get irritated and don't do anything stupid when we tell you."

"I don't do that kind of stuff," he defended, crossing his arms in a child-like manner.

"You're overprotective, get used to it," Hermione replied. "And," she leaned down to whisper in his ear.

"Seraphim…what…Malfoy…?" Ron was at a loss for words when Hermione straightened up.

"Restrain him before he fully comprehends," Hermione advised, helping Harry and Seraphim to get a firm hold on the redhead's wrists.

"She _fancies_ him?" Ron's eyes were wide with disbelief and obvious distaste. He struggled to escape the hands clamped around his wrists. "I'm going to wring his neck."

"Yes, she fancies him, you promised not to overreact," Hermione reminded him sternly.

"I'm not overreacting, I'm _under_ reacting," was his reply as Ron continued to struggle against his friends.

Sighing, Harry looked his best friend in the eye. "You're happy with Fleur, aren't you? And, no offense, but she was a snob when we met her. Let Seraphim try to be happy. Please."

Coming from anyone else, Ron would have said they were off their rocker. But, apparently, his best friend seemed to hold more sway over him and, a few moments later, he settled for crossing his arms and 'hmph'ing every ten seconds.

Just then someone walked up behind them. "Potter," came the familiar drawl. The four friends turned around. There stood Malfoy, dressed to kill, all in black, swishing his cloak obnoxiously and balancing his mask on the fingertips of his right hand.

"Malfoy," Harry replied.

Reacting quickly, and following the 'strategy' she'd mapped out with Harry's help, Seraphim shifted a bit closer to Harry, partially shielding herself from view. A muscle in Malfoy's jaw twitched.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" asked Ron, still unhappy about his newfound discovery.

"I wasn't talking to you Weasley," was the terse reply. He turned back to Harry. "Well, well, well Potter. We have to get in with McGonagall's niece to pass, now do we?" He met Seraphim's gaze. A chill ran down her spine and she could feel the heat creeping up her neck.

"Sod off, Malfoy," Ron interjected, his arm moving convulsively under Hermione's grip.

"I was not talking to you, for the second time," Malfoy spat, rolling his eyes. "Well, Potter?"

"Malfoy, please leave Harry alone," Seraphim requested softly, looking up at him.

Hermione could tell that a snappy remark was on the tip of his tongue; then he looked at Seraphim. Hermione had to give the older girl credit; her puppy dog eyes were perfect; she could almost see the internal debate raging in Malfoy's eyes. Should he give in to those eyes and possibly make Seraphim happy or enjoy the satisfaction of a good insult? His growing distaste for Harry, as he was obviously higher up in her favor than Malfoy, was also evident.

After a moment's deliberation, the blonde shot them a glare, turned, and stalked furiously away.


	10. Confrontation

AN: O-kay. This is where that wonderful thing called 'creative license' comes into play. Because this chapter is the true beginning of the OOC-ness for the storyline. So…:crosses fingers: I hope you like it! Enjoy!

**Chapter 9: Confrontation**

After seeing Seraphim back to her room, Harry decided to sit up on the Astronomy tower. He wasn't quite sure he liked the idea of Seraphim trying to win Malfoy over. He had doubts; could Malfoy really make her happy? Or would he, and perhaps Ron, have to break a neck or two when the whole thing was over? Harry was snapped out of his reverie when the sound of boots clacking on the stone floor alerted him that he would soon have a visitor.

Draco Malfoy, apparently on his prefect rounds, turned the corner, spotted Harry, and scowled. "Well Potter, what are you doing out of bed?"

"Curfew is late tonight Malfoy, on account of the ball, you can't write me up," replied Harry wearily.

"I have better things to do with my time," the blonde snorted.

"It doesn't look like it," replied Harry, rising. The other boy's glare shot through him like fire. All at once, Harry could see clearly why Malfoy had an obvious aversion to him. It was like in their fourth year when Ron hadn't spoken to him except Malfoy's jealousy had had over five years to accumulate. Harry was the golden boy; he had fiercely loyal friends, was hero-worshipped by much of the wizarding community without even trying, Dumbledore's pet, the best on a broomstick the school had seen in who knew how long, and, seemingly, he had Malfoy's love interest wrapped around his finger.

"I don't want to have to hex you right now, Potter," snapped the Slytherin.

"That makes two of us." Harry dusted off his pants. "You're a bit touchier tonight though, aren't you?"

Malfoy growled. "That's none of your business, Potter."

"It is my business. You have your eye on Seraphim," Harry stated plainly, "and I want to make sure it's for the right reasons."

Malfoy looked taken aback. His mouth moved wordlessly before he set his jaw. "I don't want your girl and…and if I did, I wouldn't ask _you_ for advice." The blonde smirked. "Though she _is_ quite delicious. A wonderful piece of ass."

Harry blanched. "Is that all girls are to you, Malfoy? Pretty faces?"

"Oh no, Potter. She's got a temper to match Granger's," another smirk graced his features. "She'd only be good for one night of course. Disciplining her would be _far_ too much work." He waited for a reaction.

"You're terrible. You filthy scum," Harry yanked Malfoy forward by his cloak, "don't you ever talk about Seraphim that way again, is that understood?" he enunciated clearly; his voice was soft but the cold harshness of it was not to be mistaken. Having no siblings himself, Harry protected his friends as if they were his family; at that moment, he felt his surrogate older sister needed quite a bit of protecting.

"Get off of me, Potter," Malfoy attempted to wrench his clothes from Harry's grip.

"No, you listen. You stay away from her. I don't want you to hurt her in any way," Harry glared menacingly. "Is that clear?"

The Slytherin snorted, "Clear as crystal."

"I mean it, don't you touch her," Harry repeated.

"I'll do what I want, Potter. You're not my mother." Malfoy finally succeeded in freeing himself from Harry's vice like grip and stumbled a few feet away.

"You don't deserve her, Malfoy. She wanted to give you a chance but I'm not falling for it. You can pull the wool over her eyes, but not mine. I don't want you near her," Harry seethed.

"Is that because you want her all for yourself, hey Potter?" Malfoy's jaw was shaking. So Potter didn't think he was good enough, huh? Since when did his opinion matter? Since when had the golden boy dictated the life of a Malfoy? Since when?

"I don't want her for myself."

Malfoy couldn't help the sharp "What?" that escaped his lips.

"I don't want her for myself. But I don't want her to get hurt and that is what you'll do to her. She thinks she can change you. We both know that's a silly wish. Our plan tonight was stupid; going to the ball together hoping that you'd be jealous and whisk her away from me." Harry stalked forward, trapping the Slytherin in a corner. "You didn't see the look of disappointment in her eyes when you walked away without looking back. You didn't hear her voice her opinion that she just wasn't good enough. You didn't see _any_ of it."

Malfoy paled at the rage evident in Harry's eyes. He was lucky that Hermione had stopped Ron from walking back with Harry and Seraphim; if she hadn't, he might have been dead.

"I saw!" Harry exclaimed. "I saw. And now you say you think of her as just a pretty face? How _dare_ you! You-"

"I don't think of her as just a pretty face," said Malfoy quietly.

"Oh, right," Harry continued. "You think she had a temper too. Well, let me tell you that-"

"That's _not_ what I meant."

Harry stopped and stared.

"That's not what I meant. I…" Malfoy set his jaw, "just leave me alone Potter."

"No. What did you mean?" Harry inquired, blocking Malfoy's escape path.

"She's not just a pretty face. She foolishly attempted to give me a second chance, more than once," the blonde began. "Just let me _go_."

"No. Explain to me," Harry ordered, grabbing Malfoy's shoulders.

"Why?"

"Because you like her and I want to know why. Or else, I swear, if I find out you've done something stupid to hurt her, I'll hex you into oblivion," the Gryffindor threatened.

Malfoy hung his head in silence. "She gave me a second chance. She wanted to be friends. She thought I could make something…more positive of myself," he laughed, a hollow laugh. "I thought she was crazy but now…I want her to be right. I want to prove myself to her," he stared intently at Harry's right shoulder. "I want her to give me another second chance."

Harry stared…and stared…and stared. He was thinking hard. Malfoy's confession was so sincere, so heartfelt, and so distinctly un-Malfoy. But it _was_ Malfoy. Malfoy couldn't be trusted. Malfoy had managed to hurt Seraphim once already; did Harry really want to chance it again? Was her possible happiness worth another mistake? Damn his Gryffindor-ness. Taking a deep breath, Harry loosed his hold on the other boy's shoulders. "She's pacing on the balcony of the library."

A look of disbelief crossed Malfoy's face as he lifted his head to look at Harry.

"Don't make me change my mind. She likes you, who knows why, and I want her to be happy so I'm giving you this second chance. Don't screw up."

An unspoken agreement passed between the two former enemies. So long as Malfoy could prove himself to Seraphim, Harry would accept the relationship. And Malfoy…well, they'd see about him.

The Slytherin dashed off to the library. Harry retrieved the Marauder's Map from behind a pillar; tapping it softly, he murmured, "Mischief managed," and sighed, hoping he'd done the right thing.

His heavy boots pounded the stone floors as he raced to the library. Another chance, he wouldn't mess it up. Failure was not an option. He was going to be accepted. He was going to succeed.

Entering the library, he brushed wisps of silvery-gold from his eyes and caught his breath. Crossing the floor, the thumping of his feet muffled by the carpet, he reached the balcony. Standing, partially hidden by a particularly tall bookcase, he watched her. She hadn't taken the time to change out of her costume. Silver ribbons trailed after her as she paced back and forth. Her satin slippers silenced the shuffle of her feet. Her hair had come undone and flowed after her in dark wisps like smoke. With the moon shining down on the otherwise empty balcony, she truly looked her namesake, Seraphim.

He stepped quietly onto the balcony. Lost in thought, Seraphim continued her pacing, not noticing her visitor. Slowly, he made his way to her, closing the distance between where she turned and where he stood. Finally, she stopped and sunk to the floor, her back facing her visitor.

Not daring to breathe, Draco continued his slow, hesitant walk to the unmoving figure. She sat silently, looking through the short pillars that held up the balcony railing. Kneeling noiselessly behind her, he placed his hands on her bare shoulders. She drew in a sharp breath and stiffened. Draco marveled at the softness of her skin. How was it that girls managed to have such soft, smooth skin? He inhaled deeply; and how did their hair smell so good? She smelled like vanilla and brown sugar with a hint of cinnamon. It matched, sweet and slightly mysterious. So feminine compared to him.

Seraphim turned slowly, eyes widening when she realized who had caught her alone. She had a scared rabbit look that pained Draco. That look was for him. God, he was stupid sometimes. Even so, her eyes were really something. The thin ring of sky-blue that revealed who and what she was offset plain chocolate brown. They were trusting eyes; eyes filled with something akin to betrayal. They offered the world for nothing and nothing for the world.

"What are you doing here?"

Words failed him. What could he say? "I…"

"Malfoy?"

"My name is Draco," he said softly, looking down.

Seraphim bit her lip. What was he doing? "Why are you…what are you doing here?" she asked again.

He needed something to fill the silence, anything. He kissed her. Dragged his hands over her shoulders to her neck, pulling her up to him. Enjoyed the sweet little sigh she made as her eyelids fluttered closed, as her reflexes dominated her coherent thought. Melted at the feel of her lips, her taste and smell, the slight pressure he felt on his own lips that told him she was kissing back. Felt her arms as they circled his neck, pulled him closer, crushed their lips together. The comforting feeling that finally, finally, he'd done the right thing.

Seraphim's eyes snapped open, realization dawning. Quickly disengaging herself from the kiss, she scooted backwards, horrified. "No," she murmured. Her voice was strangled, unsure. "No!"

The words pierced like daggers. Malfoy met her gaze. "What?"

"No. Please, don't do this to me," Seraphim rose unsteadily. "Just leave me alone."

For the first time, Malfoy saw the faint tear stains on her cheeks. "Why?" confusion crossed his features.

"You wouldn't understand, I don't-" Seraphim whispered. _I don't want to fall for you. I don't want to be fooled. I don't want to have my heart stolen. _"I have to go." She brushed past him, off the balcony and out of the library.

Alone again, he was no longer 'the Malfoy heir.' Alone again, he was just Draco. Staring after the retreating figure, he realized that he well and truly was…alone.

:checks self: Okay. Haven't been maimed yet because of the OOC-ness. :whew: Hehe. So, you know the drill, please leave a nice, tasty, crunchable…err. 'Scuse me, **review**. Yes, that's it. Review please! Ta!


	11. Second Chance

AN: Well. Huge warning of a lot of out-of-character-ness. I apologize but the plot somewhat needs it. I'm still calling it artistic license. Um, um. Enjoy!

**Chapter 10: Second Chance**

For the next week Seraphim was withdrawn. She never stayed more than fifteen minutes at meals and avoided common gathering places like the plague. Her lesson consisted of writing a student's name on and shrinking a previously enlarged piece of parchment small enough to be fit back into the book the pages came from. Pieces that did not fit would not be given full credit. In her other classes, she merely took notes and did not participate at all.

Ron had been livid. When she returned from her encounter with 'the blonde idiot', he'd been furious. "What's he done to her this time? I'll kill him! I swear I will!" were the only things he'd said for half the night.

Hermione was confused. Her plan had been perfect. She'd seen the eyes they were making at each other, only a blind man would have missed them because a blind woman would have sensed the signals they were sending out. While she tried to calm Ron down, she kept muttering to herself, "I don't understand."

Harry was just about ready to blow something up. When he finally accepts the whole thing, Seraphim goes and decides she doesn't want to date Malfoy. He'd watched on the Marauders Map after going back to his dormitory and couldn't believe it when Seraphim ran away. "What is wrong with women?" he'd asked himself when he heard the door to her room slam shut.

When he couldn't take it any more, Harry cornered Hermione and asked her to force her way into Seraphim's room and get her seeing straight again.

"I know what you're saying Harry, but I don't know what to do either," Hermione replied briskly.

"You're both girls. Go bond or something. Eat chocolate, I've heard that helps," Harry offered, handing Hermione a galleon.

"It doesn't work that way. And I'll need more comfort food than just chocolate," Hermione sighed. "Find out of Ron has any Japanese candy left from the last care package his uncle sent him."

"What? Why?"

"Because she likes them and they are her comfort foods," Hermione explained. Harry's blank expression prompted another sigh. "Never mind, just do it. I'll try my best."

Harry nodded and went off in search of Ron. When that task had been completed, he retreated to his dormitory for another look at the Marauder's Map. Quickly locating the speck that was Draco Malfoy in the owlrey, Harry plotted out the quickest route to corner him.

Map in hand, he jumped out of bed and set off at a brisk walk. There were a few things he had to take care of.

Malfoy turned quickly when he heard someone approaching. He'd been looking out the window at the Ravenclaw Quidditch team practicing for the next match against Hufflepuff. "Who's there?"

Harry stepped into the owlrey and shook his head. "What did you do to her?"

"I don't know what you're talking about…Potter," replied the blonde peevishly.

"I am talking about the chance that I gave you last week to win Seraphim over and the change that has overcome her since. She is withdrawn and quiet and not at all her usual self. What did you do to her?" Harry seethed.

"All I did was kiss her," he explained, defending himself.

Harry raised an eyebrow. Clearly Malfoy did not have much experience in winning the female race over. Not that Harry had much experience, but certainly enough to know that when a girl was confused over you, you did not go around kissing her. "You kissed her."

The offender nodded, puzzled. "It seemed like a good idea."

"She was confused. She believed you didn't like her. She probably thought you were going to, I don't know, rape her or something," Harry rolled his eyes, running a hand through his messy hair.

"She what?" Malfoy blinked. "Thought I would rape her? Just from a kiss?"

"You weren't exactly polite to her a couple of hours before," Harry pointed out.

"Well that wasn't my fault. If you two hadn't pulled that stint, I wouldn't have…" he stopped, his pride getting the better of him.

"You wouldn't have gotten jealous, admit it. I know already, you like her. Apparently a lot," Harry rolled his eyes. "And it's only November."

Malfoy pouted, very unbecoming to the cold Slytherin.

"I'll tell you what," Harry sat and called Hedwig over. Smoothing the owl's feathers, he sighed. "I'll help you figure out how to win her over because that will make her happy. In return, you will cease the constant mocking, teasing, etcetera. And if you hurt her, I will be allowed to hurt you. How does that sound?"

Looking warily at the other boy, the proud Malfoy, now taken down a few notches, sat next to his sworn enemy, sighed, and held out his hand, "Deal."

They shook on it. "All right then. First, you'll have to win her trust back. She doesn't know what to think of you right now. First you ignore her, and then you kiss her socks off. I'm assuming that's what you did?"

Harry was rewarded with a blush and a nod. "Yes, you might say that."

"Rule number one, don't do that. She doesn't trust you yet, do not go around kissing her until you are sure she won't slap you or run away, understand?" Harry sighed.

The pupil nodded. "But what can I do to win her trust?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted. "The general rules of courtship are pretty much in shambles with the way that this whole thing has been progressing. How much do you want this anyway?"

Draco was silent, apparently lost in thought.

"Because if you don't want it enough, there's no point. I think this is going to be a lot of work for you and if you're going to throw it away if you don't get what you want, it's not worth it. Believe me, I know," Harry pointed out. "Is this just some pride issue you have?"

"No. I…" Draco shook his head, speaking slowly, "I would like to prove myself worthy of her affections. I…I think want to make her happy."

"You're willing to work for this, even if it doesn't work out?" asked Harry.

"Yes, I think so."

"Good." Harry looked immensely pleased with himself. "Well, what kind of things do you think might make her happy?"

"I don't know," replied Draco. He really did look rather hopeless, head in his hands and half-splayed on the stone floor.

"You could try being nice to her," Harry suggested.

"She may be optimistic, but she's not stupid, Potter," Draco pouted.

"You could ask her out." Harry crumpled up a bit of parchment he'd found in his pocket and began tossing it in the air.

"Do you think she'd say yes?" asked Draco.

"Well, no," Harry admitted.

Draco groaned. "I'm terrible."

"Yes, perhaps."

"I'm being _serious_."

"So am I," Harry threw his parchment ball at Draco.

"So what am I supposed to do?" asked the blonde, tossing the ball back.

"I have no idea. As I said, all generally used forms of courtship have been tossed out the window," Harry replied.

The two boys sat in silence. "If there was a way for me to start over, without her knowing that it was…me…" a strange light came into Draco's eyes. "I've got it."

Harry looked up from the spot on the floor he'd been observing. "What is it?"

"It's practically the oldest trick in the book. I can't see why I didn't think of it before," the blonde babbled, not looking at all like the aloof snob he usually way.

"When you're read," Harry sighed, idly examining his shoes.

"I'll be her secret admirer," Draco explained.

"You already are," Harry pointed out.

"No, I'll send her presents and notes and things. I'll get her to trust this person, she won't know who he is. And then after I've gained her trust, I'll tell her that it's me," the Slytherin grinned.

Harry was skeptical. "I don't know…"

"You'll," Draco paused, "You'll help me, right?" He looked at Harry hesitantly.

The other boy nodded. "I suppose I'll have to. You realize that this goes against just about everything we've set up between ourselves over the past five years?"

"Of course, I'm not stupid. But the phrase 'united we stand, divided we fall' comes to mind."

"Does that make us allies then?" asked Harry.

"For the time being, I suppose."

Shaking on the newly formed, albeit tentative, friendship, the two proceeded to decide what kind of gifts would win Seraphim over and successfully mend the Gryffindor-Slytherin feud. It was going to be a very long morning.

:cough: Well, what did you think? Was it good? Was it horrid? Was it 'Oh my God, I can't believe you just did that'? Please, throw me a bone! Or a review! :wink: I'll see y'all tomorrow, okay? Ta!


	12. Ensemble I: Harry and Ron

AN: The next two installments are all one chapter that has been split up. It is rightly titled _Ensemble_ because each segment is a journal or diary entry from one of the main characters. I must give a special shout to my friend Matt who did the outline for Ron's entry. Thank you Matt! First up are Harry and Ron:

**Chapter 11: Ensemble**

_Harry, November 3:_

_I'm worried for Seraphim. I don't know what kind of relationship she's getting herself into, if she's getting into it at all. Malfoy is still Malfoy and there's quite a lot he's got to answer for. They may start dating now, but what happens later? What happens if they're still dating when the war breaks out? And I'm certain there will be a war. Neither of them has chosen a definite side, although it's quite clear which side each _would_ choose if things keep progressing without a romantic relationship._

_If they're together when the war starts, which side will they be on? Will one pull the other to the side they ally with? Will they be split apart and end up possibly fighting each other? I know I'm not one to think ahead but this is bothering me._

_Malfoy isn't a fully bad person. I think. I think he's just had bad influences and learned from example. I'm the opposite. I saw my influences and decided they were not what I wanted to be. I don't know what's going to happen now that Malfoy is, whether he likes it or not, going to start having good influences. I just wonder how they'll affect him._

_I'm sort of ashamed to say so, but I don't really care what happens to Malfoy as long as Seraphim is all right in the end. Yet. I wonder if, with time, we'll grow to become…friends? That could be a major turning point for just about everything. An alliance between all four houses in Hogwarts, or at least between the 'leaders' of all the houses. I wonder how many of the Slytherins would actually join forces with Voldemort if he came to power again. And would Malfoy be one of them, regardless of his relationship (existent or non-existent) with Seraphim?_

_Things are changing. With the war getting closer, I think everyone knows that things won't be the same forever. Maybe that's why I'm so accepting of this new alliance. I know a couple of years ago I would have thought anyone who said I would end up _helping_ Malfoy of my own free will had swallowed too much of a differing potion. But here I am._

_I should be having a bad feeling about this, but I don't. I really don't. They almost look…cute together. I mean, she's so levelheaded and she could help him to control that…mouth of his. It's almost funny. I'm reading into this too much, maybe it'll seem lighter in the morning._

_Ron, November 7:_

_Oh bloody hell! Professor GarbageBinns is rambling again. He's going on about how "Magic users should use their magic as Muggles use the public transit system." What the bloody hell is a 'public transit system'?_

_Well, a lot has been going on lately, lots of really bizarre things. For one, Snape wore a quite colourful scarf to class yesterday and claimed it was a mistake with a flecking potion; too much durnswor turned the thing into a bubbling mess and splotched onto his scarf. If it was a flecking potion, I'll eat my hat. Another odd turn of events is that _Seraphim_ is head over heels over the most insolent bloody git, the King of Snakes, (aka _Satan_), Draco Malfoy. That little pervert, he probably wants to just have his way with her and be on his; way I mean. She would probably just another notch on his bedpost. I honestly doubt that he even knows what love is. I mean, look at his upbringing: his father, his grandfather, his _friends_. Idiots, all of them. Why is it that she can't just start going with Harry? Is that too much to ask?_

_On another note, Fleur wrote me another letter. It was quite understandable. She wrote about how Charlie used "flew powder" and yelled "New Deli" instead of "New Delhi", and he ended up in a Meat Deli in New York where she was visiting. She also scolded me for not coming to see her as often as I should. As if that were possible at the moment. But her English is getting quite good according to the last owl Mum sent me._

_Hmm... See, Fleur is attractive. What does that little snake have that's attractive about him? I mean honestly, Seraphim literally means highest of all angels; what does Draco mean? Dragon, in Latin, a relatively dead language. In all legends, dragons are the villains and are usually slain by the hero. I did a bit of research (goodness, I'm starting to sound like Hermione) and it turns out that 'Harry' means 'home ruler', defender, hero and 'Harold' means 'leader of the army.' Sound familiar? I don't understand. Females are such abnormal creatures._

My_ name means 'advice.' Can't they take a hint as well as my advice? I hope they don't start dating; then I'll have to tolerate the nuisance and be civil because of Seraphim._


	13. Ensemble II: Hermione, Seraphim, Draco

AN: So here's part two of chapter eleven. It's Hermione, Seraphim, and Draco. Much fun, dears. Enjoy!

Chapter 11: Ensemble, Part II 

_Hermione, November 12:_

I just don't understand. What did we do wrong? Seraphim has only just emerged from the emotional box she'd built around herself. Why can't things just work out the way they're supposed to? It's what I get for being optimistic this time, I suppose.

It took me an hour to get her to see reason. I hate it when things don't work out as planned. It's just infuriating. Granted, I didn't work out whatever plan they cooked up; but I saw it happen. It literally blew up in their faces.

The initial plan went quite well. Harry and Seraphim went to the ball together. It was obvious that Malfoy was enormously jealous of Harry. He glared at them practically the whole time they danced! And he was positively livid when Seraphim kissed Harry. He should have marched over (which he did) and charmed her away! What does he do instead? He insults everyone.

Bloody pureblood ego. This really is his entire fault. Malfoy, the idiot. He glared at me today for no reason; no bloody reason at all, the imbecile. Stupid pureblood ferret.

But Seraphim is getting along nicely again. Her lesson this week was much more agreeable than that abominable paper shrinking assignment. She gave a lecture on the advantages and disadvantages of using different spells with or without wands. Cooking, for example, is easier to use without a wand because you need both hands to prepare all the ingredients. Summoning or levitating, on the other hand, is easier with a wand because you don't need to maintain eye contact with an object if you're pointing your wand at it.

_It was brilliant; since we'd already seen the difference between wandless levitation and ordinary levitation, she took us down to the kitchens and prepared these delicious raspberry-cream cheese scones while keeping up a running conversation with numerous students, myself included. I suppose, since she's a mage, she can concentrate on more than one spell at the same time because she'd be stirring in the raspberries with one hand and readying the oven with the other._

_I also believe that, to keep in with the supposed feud between Malfoy and herself, Seraphim 'accidentally' slipped a few pieces of broken eggshell into his scone. Or maybe that was Ron, I'm not sure. He was laughing quite a bit more than the rest of us. Boys: all idiots in one-way or another._

_Seraphim, November 16:_

_It troubles me to know that I am not as above these feelings as I would like to be. I'm confused over this strange boy. This boy whose demeanor infuriates me but whose eyes send shivers that I cannot explain. Surely I am past all this. These schoolgirl crushes. And surely two months is not enough time for me to be so captivated by this boy, so enamored and intrigued. But I am._

_Do I believe in love at first sight? No. But this fatal attraction I do not disbelieve. We are, after all, living in a world so immersed in fantasy that virtually anything is possible; even something so strange as this._

_But we are not living in a fairy tale; no matter how fantastical our world may seem, it is still reality and the actions we take will affect us forever. There is truly no going back. Perhaps that is what scares me. All my life I have wanted to believe fairy tales; some of them are true, many of them are our histories. But I have never hoped for a fairy tale of my own until now._

_If only I'd never found out he could play music so beautifully; that is my weakness. Nothing is so beautiful as a haunting melody, ensnaring the senses and melting the confines of reality. With darkness on our doorstep, it is a wonder that even that escape is granted us. I received word yesterday, an owl from Auror Moody; they wish me to join the Order of the Phoenix when the school year is out._

_There are so many unknowns._

_I still feel his lips press against mine. I still see the soft look in his eyes as he asks me to be human to him, to call him by his name. And in my mind I still hear his strangled 'why?' as I run away. I'm still running._

_I don't know what to think anymore. I shouldn't be so confused. I have no reason to feel this way. Is this what it's like? To fall in love? Never before has a boy invoked this reaction. Never. At times I'd like to slap him for his arrogance, his pureblood conceit. Then I see him alone, without the mask, and I… I can't say what I want, even I don't know. I wish for another time, another place, another chance to start over._

_Draco; I don't want to… What am I going to do?_

_Draco, November 21:_

_Damn women! How can she just sit there in the classroom like that? She knows! I know she knows! Even Potter tells me I'm obvious. Potter! And she doesn't do a thing! Not a damn, bloody thing about it. Women._

_And Pansy is no help either. 'Draco, you should just ask her to a Hogsmeade weekend.' 'Really Draco, I'm sure she won't laugh at you.' Oh, that's helpful. Really, very helpful. 'Draco, don't be stupid. Of course she won't hex you for asking a question. What's the matter with you?' The thing is, Potter and I (yes, I've written that right. How did this 'alliance' get started again?) have nearly completed the plan to, well, he says 'win fair lady's heart.' I think it's quite stupid really, to say that; but it's Potter. He's a Gryffindor, go figure._

_Since when am I reduced to this? What is _this_? What am I doing? It's too normal. Really. I'm acting like a normal student living an ordinary life. If my father got wind of this, well I don't know. He always does something whenever he hears of my school behavior, no matter where he is. I am a business enterprise first, son second. Story of my life._

_'Did you hear? Draco's been made prefect.' 'Oh yes, he's the seeker on his house team.' He may be my father, but…I don't know. Disobeying him is like a one-way ticket to hell. No one knows more than I how serious it is to cross my father._

_But isn't that what I'm doing? Lusting after a _Gryffindor_? I don't care what they say, she takes classes, she dorms with them, she's a Gryffindor. What am I _doing_? It's like I've just been brought to my senses and I find I just don't care anymore. How is that possible?_

_I am Draco Malfoy. I'm pureblood and I have only the best. How is it that I've lost control over my life? And I don't care. I find myself not caring at all that I'm defying what my father has taught me. What's wrong with me? And I still feel this is right. How can it be right when I know it's wrong?_

_I keep looking for the answers but they don't come. I keep trying to tell myself this is not what I should be doing. But it feels good to defy my father, to think for myself. I like knowing that I don't have to be what everyone thinks I should be. And for some strange reason, Potter accepts that. I don't understand._

_Oh hell, I forgot about the potions essay due tomorrow. I'm going to be up half the night now. Damn._


	14. The Rose

AN: Hey guys. Rejoice for I am back. Here's something to tide you over. Enjoy!

**Chapter 12: The Rose**

Draco maneuvered his Nimbus 2001 up to the corresponding window on the map Harry had drawn for him. According to the map, Seraphim's room was just behind the glass. Peering inside, Draco saw a crackling fire and a figure asleep in an armchair. He slowly eased the window open and floated inside, closing the shutter behind him.

Seraphim was wrapped in a large blanket, her glasses falling off of her too-small nose, and her book about to fall onto the floor. Reaching down, Draco quietly took the book and set it on her desk. He spied a few essays she'd assigned a few weeks before and swelled with pride at his mark, a perfect ten out of ten.

Shaking his head, Draco made his way to Seraphim's bedside table. From under his cloak, he pulled a single red rose, fringed with a deep marigold. After placing the flower next to Seraphim's alarm clock, he fished a note from his front pocket, smoothed it, and set it beside the flower.

It was written in a larger, more flourished hand than his own and read simply: _'to win fair lady's heart.'_

Looking over at Seraphim, Draco gently tugged her glasses from her face, folded them, and placed them on her desk near a stack of ungraded papers. Tentatively, holding his breath, he proceeded to lift Seraphim from the armchair and carry her to her bed. Laying her down on the bed, he turned to retrieve her blanket when she mumbled something.

Draco froze. After a few tense moments, Seraphim rolled over and snuggled against her pillow.

Draco sighed with relief; gathering the somewhat worn, woolen blanket in his arms, he tucked Seraphim in and smiled. She was quite different. He'd noticed the title of the book she was reading; it was a strange book, something about chicken soup.

Shrugging, Draco grabbed his broom, took one last look at the slightly cluttered room, and flew out the window. So far, things were working out quite nicely.

The next morning, Seraphim walked into the sixth-year potions class with an extra spring in her step. Upon waking, she'd found that someone had moved her to her bed (she'd dismissed it as Harry or Ron out of compassion for her neck which would, undoubtedly, have had a crick when she woke up) and a rose, thorn-less and in Gryffindor colors, placed delicately on her bedside table. The note accompanying it had no name and no form of identification. Puzzled but happy that she had a secret admirer, albeit one who knew how to break into her room but beggars couldn't be choosers, Seraphim put her hair up and tucked the flower behind her ear.

Seraphim didn't notice the smirk that threatened to become a full-fledged smile on a certain blonde's face when she entered the potions classroom. She did notice the very long assignment written on the board and smiled inwardly. As she wasn't exactly a student, she hardly turned in any homework, a practice that vexed Professors Snape and Binns.

Looking around the classroom, Seraphim settled into her usual seat and began to take out her books, quills, ink, and parchment. The note accompanying the rose, Draco could see, had been attached to her notebook among a myriad of photographs, poems, and doodles; he smirk-smiled again.

Professor Snape walked briskly to the front of the classroom and turned sharply to face his students, breaking of Draco's moment of self-triumph. "Settle down; please read the instructions on the board carefully and divide into pairs to work on the releiviation potion. The ingredients that you do not have in your student stores are at the front, please use them sparingly. We will be testing your potions at the end of class. Are there any questions? No, good," with a final look at the class, the professor sniffed. "Begin."

Seraphim walked to the front to retrieve the powdered root of malc and the djaviel leaves, which needed to be shredded. Hermione was busy gathering the other ingredients. Upon returning to her seat, she saw a small box, glinting in the candlelight. Peering down curiously, she noticed it was an onyx, hinged box with star and moon-shaped mother of pearl laid into the lid.

"Is this yours?" she asked Hermione, puzzled.

The other girl looked over, raised an eyebrow, and replied, "No."

"Did you see who left it?"

Hermione shook her head. "I was looking for the beetle eyes," she apologized.

Lifting the lid of the box ever so slightly, Seraphim was startled to hear music. Not wanting to anger Professor Snape, she quickly shut the box and tucked it into her bag. She would examine the mystery box in the safety of her bedroom after the lesson.

Many hours later, so tempted by the music box that she decided to skip dinner, Seraphim was sitting on her bed and looking at the pretty onyx present. She lifted the lid cautiously and jumped when music began to play. The melody was familiar. She snapped her fingers excitedly; it was the _Reprise_ from a Japanese animated movie, _Spirited Away_, which she'd seen over the summer and loved instantly. Peering inside the pretty box, she noticed a small silvery-blue fairy that danced on a platform neat the left half of the box.

Seraphim picked the tiny figure up and was delighted when it continued to dance in time with the music on her palm. She then realized that closing the box, and stopping the music, stopped the dancer. Putting the mini ballerina back where she belonged, Seraphim opened the compartment that made up the second half of what she supposed was a jewelry box.

Another note was nestled in the small space. Unfurling the small roll of parchment, Seraphim read it aloud to herself, "Voices of the angels."

Puzzled, but thoroughly charmed, Seraphim smiled. It had been a good day.

Three days later, Draco was, once again, hovering outside of Seraphim's room on his broomstick. Unfortunately, Ron and Hermione were paying a visit to their friend and the poor blonde was stuck on the windowsill.

Grumbling to himself, Draco left the windowsill in search of his partner in crime, one Harry Potter.

Finding said partner on the Quidditch field zooming around and doing loop-the-loops with his firebolt, Draco scanned the area. There was no one around.

Hovering by the goal posts, Draco shouted, "Oi, Potter!"

Harry whirled around to face the addressee. "What?"

"Come over here, I need to talk to you!" Draco yelled, waving Harry over.

Harry obliged and drifted over. "What is it?" he asked impatiently.

"Can you give something to Seraphim for me?" asked the blonde. "I went up earlier but she was entertaining the Weasel- ahem, _Weasley_ and Granger."

Harry rolled his eyes and nodded, "What is it?"

Draco rummaged around in his pockets before handing Harry a book. It was a hand-bound journal done up with silver string. The cover was a patchwork of burgundy, a dark shade of marigold, emerald green, and deep blue, also held together with silver string. On the front cover was a small, slightly yellowed rectangle of parchment; on it, in silvery, multicolored ink, was written _'for all your sweetest dreams…'_ in the same flourished handwriting.

Harry flipped the book open and looked over the paper; crisp, white sheets lined with silver ink and flourishes on each of the outer corners. A short line on the top of each right-hand page was reserved for a title or date. Draco's message continued on the inside cover, _'…and all your fondest memories.'_

Harry assured Draco that Seraphim would receive her present and smirked at the other boy.

"What is it, Potter?"

Harry shook his head, "Nothing." He then waved and started back for the castle.

Seraphim had pestered Harry endlessly after receiving the third gift from her 'secret admirer.' She'd attempted hexing the information out of the poor Gryffindor but was stopped by Hermione and refused to speak to either of them for the rest of the day. By the fifth day, she had nearly forgotten the incident as the first Gryffindor Quidditch match of the year had taken place that weekend. Needless to say, Gryffindor had steamrolled Hufflepuff and the after-party had been quite enjoyable.

Seraphim sauntered quite happily into her classroom Monday morning and set her books down. It was about then that she noticed the small, midnight blue, velvet box in the center of her somewhat cluttered desk. She stopped and stared, and stared, and stared. Finally, her desk clock snapped her out of her reverie and signaled to her that it was time for class to begin.

"Please refer to the board," Seraphim gestured behind herself. "We will be working on the warming charm. I have blocks of dry ice up here, please don't touch them with your bare hands because they'll burn, _wingardium leviosa_ them over. I want you to melt them by the time the piece I have on my desk has evaporated. Is that understood?" she asked, looking over the class. A myriad of 'yes', 'mmhmm', and nods were her answer. "Excellent, you may begin."

Students scrambled to the front of the classroom with their wands, picked out their pieces, and levitated them to their respective desks. After observing quietly for a moment, Seraphim turned to the strange little box on her desk. It was about a fourth of the size of the chunks of ice her students were warming.

She picked up the box and found a note, painstakingly folded so as not to show from underneath the box. In that flourished handwriting that was becoming so familiar, Seraphim read to herself, _'To match the stars in your eyes.' _

Now curious, Seraphim opened the box and stifled a gasp. Small diamonds in the shape of stars winked back at her. She'd seen the exact set in the window of a shop at Hogsmeade and had dearly wanted them to match her Halloween Ball outfit. They had special attachment charms which, when used, caused the small jewels to stick anywhere until the countercharm had been performed. Seraphim had debated buying the set and attaching them to her nails, hair, or the corners of her eyes but she'd not had enough gold to pay for them. A silly grin slowly plastered itself on her face. Whoever was leaving her presents knew her quite well and, she believed, she was getting to like whoever-it-was.

Perhaps the fiasco with Malfoy hadn't been such a bad thing.

Later in the week, Draco chanced going back to Seraphim's room to drop off the fifth gift. He'd cockroached a rather girly catalog from Pansy and gone over it for a good portion of a Saturday morning with Harry in the owlrey. They'd finally found the gift that Draco clutched rather protectively under his cloak as he fought the winds up the outside of the Gryffindor tower.

Finally reaching the window, he thanked whatever deities had blessed him and silently thanked Harry for making sure no one would be in the room as per their last fiasco with the journal that, Harry had assured the Slytherin, Seraphim had adored. Getting the window open was short work and Draco was soon inside the cozy confines of Seraphim's personal living space. Woe to him if she happened to walk through the door.

Setting his wand down on a table, Draco pulled a tall, thin glass vase with a cork stopper from the confines of his cold weather wear. Inside the vase were about a thousand tiny pastel paper stars. The vase was decorated with silvery-blue glitter and formed patterns of feathers drifting in the wind. Around the top was a thin, light blue, silk ribbon.

Draco picked up his wand and cleared his throat. "_Remylie glenit_," he muttered, flicking the wand at the jar. The stars began to emit a faint glow. "_Tantsni_." The glowing stopped and Draco looked at Seraphim's wall clock. It was nearing four in the afternoon. "Four hours," he muttered, the stars were charmed to begin glowing again at eight o'clock that night.

Last, Draco tied a note to the blue ribbon at the top of the vase. _'For the smile that lights the heavens.'_ He seriously didn't know where he came up with the 'sweet', perhaps too sweet, sentiments, but his only liaison to the truth had assured him the notes were doing just as good a job as the presents. And, well, Harry was the only other in on 'the plan.' He then tucked the vase behind one of the draperies on Seraphim's bed. She'd find it when the stars began to glow.

Draco stood and stretched his legs. He then grabbed his broom and made for the window. Just as he opened it, there were footsteps in the hall.

"Seraphim! Wait, you um," Draco heard Harry's voice quite clearly. He bolted out of the room.

"What is it Harry?" asked the girl in question, opening the door to her room.

Harry peered inside and mentally breathed a sigh of relief. "Um, nothing, nevermind," he said quickly.

Seraphim turned and a puzzled look crossed her face. "Who left the window open?"

Leaning back and placing the last of the to-be-graded homework in a neat pile, Seraphim sighed contentedly. After stretching like a contented cat, she pushed her chair back and walk-stumbled over to her bed and flopped down. About five minutes later, she rolled over and took her glasses off, placing them on her bedside table next to the vase of tiny glowing stars left by a gallant stranger.

Seraphim sat up and ordered all her candles out. After changing into more comfortable sleepwear, she crawled into bed and ordered the stars to dim as well. Snuggling into her pillow and burrowing into a blanket, Seraphim sighed once more and fell asleep.

Her dreams were sweet and before she knew it, the morning sun was shining at her, imploring her to greet the day. Seraphim, of course, was in no mood to do so. She grumbled and attempted to pull her covers over her head when she grasped something decidedly silkier and warmer to the touch than what she'd been covered with the night before.

Fully conscious, Seraphim saw her old blanket folded neatly beside her bed. She then turned her attention to piece of cloth covering her. 'Piece of cloth' turned out to be an immense understatement.

Over her legs was draped a patchwork quilt. Each square featured a different scene of the sky. Some patches had fluffy clouds on a spring day, others showed twilight, and still others had stars that seemed to twinkle fitfully against a velvety blackness. The lining of the quilt was a soft cerulean blue and sent delicious tingles of warmth through Seraphim's fingers.

Instinctively reaching for her glasses, Seraphim's fingers found a piece of parchment instead. Somewhat nervous, she read the message in the familiar script. _'To comfort you when I cannot.'_

A soft, worried smile played on the lucky girl's lips.


	15. The Lucky Seven

**Chapter 13: The Lucky Seven**

The following Saturday, Seraphim woke up with a smile on her face and sighed contentedly. Firstly, it was the beginning of the winter holiday, which meant no classes, less people, and sleeping in. Secondly, it was December twelfth, Seraphim's seventeenth birthday.

Looking at her bedside clock, Seraphim groaned knowing that Harry, Ron, and Hermione would not be up for at least another hour. She grumbled softly and debated going back to sleep even with the excitement of a delicious few weeks of holiday in front of her. Wrapping herself in the quilt, she looked around the room for ways to pass the time before the others woke up.

Each gift from her mysterious benefactor had found a place in her room. The aforementioned quilt was usually folded neatly on her bed, ready for whenever she decided to go to sleep. The vase of glowing stars sat near her clock, illuminating the hands when it was still too dark to see. On her dressing table sat the onyx music box and inside were the attachable star charms. Over on the other side of the room, lying on her desk, was the journal. A picture of each gift along with the accompanying note had been pasted to a few pages in the back. Also on the desk was the Gryffindor-color rose. It was in a small sake (rice wine) bottle along with a few sprays of red and gold decorating stars. The air around Seraphim's desk was heavily perfumed with the delicious scent.

Looking around her room, she spotted a pile of presents from friends, a handful of students and professors, and her parents. Grinning devilishly, she pounced. Wrapping paper and ribbons flew through the air as she unwrapped boxes of candy (from favorite students), books (from professors), and a few choice gifts. Her favorites were the miniature harp that played back any melody sung (from Harry), a new set of dress robes in midnight blue (from her parents along with a letter telling her about Timbuktu), and a set of scented candles (from her Aunt).

Just as she was cleaning up her mess, a gray and white-flecked falcon swooped through her window with a letter. Seraphim looked at the bird curiously; it definitely didn't belong to anyone she knew. Taking the letter, she opened it and began to read.

_'Seraphim! This is the gang, aka Jesse, Darius, and Lillian. We met in Diagon Alley a few weeks ago and decided to make a day of shopping. Safiya's idea. So, how are you? Good I hope. Keeping them boys at arm's length? If you need any of us to come down and do a little damage control, it's no problem at all. Lillian included._

_Also, Happy Birthday! How does it feel to be seventeen? You'll notice we didn't include a present with this letter. And for a good reason! You see that bird? The pretty one that brought you the letter? We decided that you needed a mode of communication so we decided to buy you the falcon! Hope you like him. Yes, it is a him; we checked._

_Um, guess that's it. We'll see you at Christmas! We'll be arriving on the twentieth._

_Love,_

_Lillian, Darius, and Jesse'_

Seraphim looked from the letter to the bird perched contentedly on the back of her desk chair.

"All right, so you're mine," she said, half to herself and half to the bird. "I'm going to have to think of a name for you."

The falcon flew over and nipped at her affectionately. "Hmm…" Seraphim thought for a moment. "How about I call you Julian? Do you like that?" The falcon only nipped at her again. "All right, Julian it is." She offered the bird some leftover crackers and quickly cleaned up the wrapping paper scattered around her floor.

Just then, the door burst open and Harry, Ron, and Hermione rushed in shouting their greeting. They each wished her happy birthday and took turns looking over the various presents she'd received.

"What are you planning to do today?" asked Harry.

"Um…" Seraphim looked at the ceiling, "I don't really know. My parents won't be able to come around this holiday season because of work and my other friends aren't going to be here until the end of the month to celebrate." She shrugged, "Hang around the castle, I guess."

Ron noted Harry sigh with relief and thought that finally, _finally_, Seraphim wasn't delusional and had gotten over Malfoy and maybe Harry would ask her to dinner for that night. Unfortunately, Ron hadn't counted on the owl.

The owl flew in through the still-open window and Julian snapped at it. The disgruntled owl dropped a piece of parchment in Seraphim's lap and left with an indignant hoot. Ron jumped up and closed the window irritably.

Seraphim looked over the letter with a confused expression.

_'Seraphim,_

_First, I'd like to wish you a happy birthday. I've got a present for you and I'd like to give it to you tonight. Please meet me in the room of requirement at nine tonight. I promise all your questions will be answered.'_

Seraphim stared at the parchment for a good five minutes before Hermione impatiently snatched it from her hands.

"Oh my…"

Ron leaned over Hermione's shoulder to read the letter. "Wait, wait, wait…who's this bloke?" he asked crossly.

Seraphim shrugged again. "I've no idea. They've been leaving me presents since last month. _Harry_ knows who it is," she glared pointedly at the-boy-who-lived, "but he's not telling me a thing."

"She wouldn't believe me even if I told her," Harry said as a side comment to Ron and Hermione.

"Who is it!" Seraphim grabbed Harry by the shoulders and shook him lightly.

Harry just grinned cheekily. "I'm not allowed to tell you. Just go and meet him tonight, okay?"

Ron looked confusedly from Harry to Seraphim and back to Harry again. Hermione had a look of suspicion and understanding written on her features. She began to whisper furiously into Harry's ear.

"No, I'm not saying a word. You can guess all you like," he said, raising his hands in defense.

Seraphim hmph-ed huffily.

The day was spent throwing snowballs and making hot chocolate and Seraphim still wasn't sure she should go and meet whoever-it-was.

She paced in her room while Hermione laid an outfit on her bed. "Just go."

"But what if I don't like them?" the older girl asked worriedly. "I don't want to hurt their feelings."

Hermione handed her a black slip dress, "_Go_."

"But-"

"You'll never know if you don't go. I'm sure it won't be all that bad," Hermione reasoned, pulling out a navy blue robe.

"But-"

"You think too much. I'm telling you, you'll feel better if you go," Hermione succeeded in stuffing Seraphim into the clothes.

After a little more pushing and prodding, Seraphim was standing outside the room of requirement. She pushed the door open slowly and stepped inside, holding her breath.

The room was relatively normal looking: a desk, a sofa, some books, a fireplace. There was a table with two chairs near the left-hand side of the room. Nothing out of the ordinary. Seraphim took a seat at the table to wait. It was eight fifty-seven.

The fire crackled merrily and Seraphim looked around. There was no one else in the room yet. Perhaps she'd been stood up. Or maybe he was running late. She checked the wall clock; it was eight fifty-eight.

Seraphim began drumming her fingers on the table impatiently. Where was he? She crossed and uncrossed her legs, finally deciding to sit Indian style on the desk chair. She maneuvered her legs so that she was perfectly balanced on the mahogany piece of furniture. It was eight fifty-nine.

Seraphim counted the seconds. Forty-five…how long did he want her to wait for him? Thirty…bugger, she had things she could be doing. Twenty…she was still all alone in the room and getting irritable. Fifteen…she fidgeted and nearly fell over. Ten…she ticked the seconds off on her fingers.

Five…four…three…two…one…

A long, rectangular box appeared on the table. Seraphim looked at it skeptically. She finally decided it was harmless and opened it.

Inside was a white-gold box-chain. Seraphim picked it up carefully and examined the pendant hanging on the end. There were two opal dolphins facing each other and holding a sphere of iridescent glass. Turning the pendant slowly, Seraphim realized it was glowing. Taking a closer look, she spotted a crystal star in the center of the glass sphere that gave off a soft light.

"Happy birthday, I hope you liked my presents." Someone was behind her.

Seraphim froze. Internally debating whether or not to turn around, she shut her eyes tightly and concentrated. "Yes…yes, I did like them very much," she replied, still not facing whoever was speaking to her. "Thank you."

"It was no trouble at all if it made you happy," they said softly, Seraphim could feel a soft breath on her ear as she cupped the last present in the palms of her hands.

"They did make me happy. Very much so," Seraphim leaned back slightly, feeling warm all of a sudden coming into contact with the living, breathing human standing behind her.

"Let me help you put that on." He took the necklace from her hands and strung it around her neck, securing the clasp under her hair.

Seraphim opened her eyes slowly. She knew that voice. Didn't she? "Why?"

A male voice chuckled, "Why what?"

"Why all these presents?" she asked.

"Didn't you read the first message?" he chastised jokingly. "'To win fair lady's heart'."

Seraphim sighed contentedly.

"Have I done a good job?" he asked, nuzzling her neck.

Biting her lower lip, Seraphim closed her eyes again. "I'm not sure." She had to find out who it was sooner or later. Oh well, no time like the present. She opened her eyes, looking down at her feet, and turned around slowly.

She saw black shoes. Letting her gaze travel upward, she took in the long limbs and lean, muscular build. She figured he was on one of the house Quidditch teams. She let her gaze linger around his abdomen, letting her cowardice get the best of her.

She felt fingers forcing her chin gently up. She blinked.

That face, the smirk, and the all-too-familiar silver-mercury eyes threatening to swallow her whole. She was drowning. The fight or flight survival instinct kicked in and, before her brain could register, she had backed away from those eyes, turned, and fled the room, her thoughts scattered.

Alone again, Draco Malfoy slammed his hand into the table and swore colorfully.


	16. Yes, No, Maybe So

AN: Okay guys. Here is chapter fourteen. I've finally gotten over my writer's block and done half a chapter tonight. Yay! I hope you enjoy! 

**Chapter 14: Yes, No, Maybe So**

Seraphim entered the Gryffindor common room and fled past Harry to her room, slamming the door shut. Performing a quick locking charm to make any unwanted interruptions impossible, she sat on her bed and curled up with the sky-themed quilt, lost in thought. It was Malfoy; it was Draco Malfoy.

After all the time she'd spent convincing herself that he was a mean, spiteful prat who didn't deserve the time of day from her… She shivered. The warm, masculine scent lingered about her person. She felt like she'd been burned. Breathing deeply, Seraphim wondered what the hell was wrong with her.

There was a knock on the door followed by a muffled "Seraphim!" She knew it was Harry.

"I don't wish to speak with you."

"Seraphim! Open the damn door!" Harry pounded violently.

"Please leave me alone. I'm trying to…think," she trailed off.

"What is there to think about? Open the door!" Harry swore as he pounded the door a little too hard. "_Alohomora!_"

"It won't work." Seraphim debated putting a silencing charm on the door as well, but Harry was distracting her from that which made her uncomfortable.

"I'm going to break the door down," Harry threatened.

"I'd like to see you try."

"Seraphim, please let me in; I need to talk to you," Harry pleaded.

"What about?" she asked airily, fingering the satiny warmth of the quilt.

"Seraphim!" Harry berated.

Grumbling, Seraphim muttered, "_Finite incantato_." Harry stumbled into see her glaring at him, wrapped up to her neck in the quilt and looking, for all the world, like Mrs. Weasley when she was about to tell Fred and George off.

"Seraphim…" Harry began.

Seraphim made no move to lessen her glare. But she did scoot over so Harry could sit beside her on the bed.

"Seraphim, please give him a chance," Harry looked meaningfully at her.

"Why such a sudden change of heart?" she asked sarcastically. "I thought you two were _sworn_ enemies." Seraphim crossed her arms in a huff.

"He wants to make you happy," Harry put his hand on Seraphim's shoulder. "He wants to make up for all the less-than-admirable things he's done."

"And what about yesterday in class? Huh? Seems that bad-mouthing me isn't the best way to 'win fair lady's heart'," Seraphim bit her lip.

"Give him a chance."

"Why are you _defending_ him? I'd have thought you'd love for me to hex his ears right off! You wanted me to teach you the wandless leg-locker curse to use on him at the beginning of the year!" Seraphim argued hotly.

"Because he needed the help," Harry explained.

"So? Just because- …oh never mind," Seraphim looked away and the vase of glowing stars caught her eye.

"He picked out all the gifts himself you know," Harry said after a long pause. "I told him that I'd help him but he wanted to do at least that on his own; see if he really could make you happy without running to me for advice. Hah, running to me for advice, that'd be the day," he said absent-mindedly, forgetting that it was through his advice that the Slytherin had been able to get the gifts to Seraphim.

Finally, Seraphim spoke, "I'm scared."

"Of what?" Harry asked, facing his friend.

"Broken heart…believing that I'm living in a fairy tale…" Seraphim sighed, "I wasn't always this pessimistic."

"Seraphim look," Harry grasped her chin firmly and turned her to look at him, "see all those gifts? Tell me they didn't make you happy. Tell me to my face that you didn't enjoy receiving them and that they don't mean anything to you. Tell me that it's not just because Draco Malfoy gave you those presents that you refuse to accept the offer he's making."

She raised her eyes to meet Harry's. "I…"

"You said so yourself when you were convinced our former plan would work: he can change. He has changed; or rather, he's dropped his mask for you. What more could you ask?" Harry smiled wryly.

"Lots of things," she mumbled distantly.

"I can't make the decision for you but I want you to know that I fully approve. And I'm sure Hermione does too. And don't worry about Ron," Harry assured her.

Seraphim laughed. "I worry about Ron, believe me."

Harry sighed; she was avoiding the subject.

"I need to make this decision on my own. I'm glad you put in your two cents, but I need to think. Seriously," Seraphim sent Harry a meaningful look. "This is my problem and I need to deal with it. I appreciate your concern but I need to do this by myself."

Harry chuckled. "You sound just like him when he flipped through the catalog looking for your presents."

Seraphim glared at the younger boy.

"All right, all right. I'll go," Harry stood and straightened his robes. "It'll be okay." He winked and strolled out the door.

Sighing to herself, Seraphim raised an eyebrow. Since when had Harry been the voice of reason? She had to admit that what he said had a ring of truth to it. The presents did make her happy. They showed that he had taken the time to get to know her without her realizing it.

He showed his knowledge of her love for idea of love with the rose: red for love and a touch of yellow for friendship. He knew of her love for music by means of the onyx jewelry box. The journal expressed an awareness of her desire to be creative in writing, no doubt seen in her assignments (give a detailed, _original_ example of a scenario where wandless magic is helpful). By giving her the attachable star charms, he knew of her desire to be beautiful. The vase of glowing paper stars expressed an understanding of her reverence for the celestial bodies that served as such a great inspiration for her to venture into the unknown. And by leaving the beautiful quilt for her, he showed that he knew of her need for security and was willing to provide it. Hadn't the parchment said 'to comfort you when I cannot'?

And the last gift… Seraphim summoned a mirror and admired the beautiful pendant at her throat. People said that opals amplified feelings and emotions but all Seraphim felt was uncertainty. The dolphins…Seraphim thought hard to remember what they stood for. Finally, it came to her; balance, harmony, allowing life to happen. But her life was so confusing. The sphere obviously meant continuity, eternity, endlessness…but endlessness of what? Hope perhaps. In reference to the Christmas star. She knew that the gold chain meant immortality.

The necklace signified endless, immortal hope and flowing of life, allowing emotions to surface. Seraphim could not have been more confused. Of course, every aspect of the necklace had many different meanings. Seraphim had a book somewhere that would tell her each and every one but she was puzzled enough as it was.

She was missing something important, something simple because she was over-analyzing so much. But she could not, for the life of her, figure out what 'it' was. She knew how he felt, but how did she feel? How did _Seraphim_ feel about the mysterious, blonde Slytherin who'd gone through what seemed like a major personality change in order to win her heart?

His gifts made her happy and his touch sent shivers down her spine, what was she waiting for? She was afraid. One did not travel through the wide world and not become a little jaded. How many times had she pined for someone only to find that they were far out of her reach? But maybe an exception was possible.

Seraphim looked at the clock. She'd been debating with herself for quite a while; it was nearly eleven thirty. She glanced at the gifts again.

The rose was the one that did it. She remembered the feeling; the rapturous joy of knowing someone admired her enough to send her such an exquisite flower. Looking at the perfect example of simple beauty, Seraphim felt an ache in the pit of her stomach. She needed to find Draco. She needed to give him an answer.

"Harry!" she called, crashing into the sixth-year boy's dormitory.

The familiar black-haired head appeared from behind the curtains of Harry's four-poster bed. "Whaizzit?" he mumbled sleepily.

Seraphim dashed over to him. "Where is he? Where is Draco?"

"Why?" Harry yawned, a hint of a smirk on his face.

"I…I need to talk to him," Seraphim explained.

"Mmm, thought you might." Harry ducked back into his bed and muttered something while Seraphim waited impatiently. "Mimpiff mannphed," he mumbled, reappearing. "He's still in the room of requirement."

Seraphim thanked Harry quickly and hurried out of the room.

She dashed down the hallways, nearly colliding with a suit of armor that was stretching its legs with a little midnight stroll. The clock began to chime midnight.

Bong…bong… 

Seraphim ran down the stairs two at a time and made a sharp left turn.

Bong…bong, bong, bong… 

The next staircase lurched heavily and Seraphim had to make a jump for the landing.

Bong, bong! Bong, bong! 

There was the room! Seraphim quickened her pace and grasped the door handle.

Bong… 

She wrenched the door open.

**_Bong!_**

"Draco!"


	17. Out of the Frying Pan

AN: Hey guys. Well, here's the next chapter. It isn't my favorite but there you go. I hope you enjoy reading it. I'm off to go redeem myself and write something better for the next chapter… Chapter 15: Out of the Frying Pan 

He was sitting quietly in one of the two squashy armchairs, facing the fireplace. Upon hearing his name, his head snapped up and he turned toward the door. A small, haughty sneer was attached to his lips but his shoulders slumped a little and his hair was slightly disheveled; his usually bright gray eyes were dimmed.

Seraphim stopped to catch her breath, clutching at the stitch in her chest. "Draco…"

He turned to face her, his movements rough and uncomfortable. "Hello…Professor."

Seraphim gasped as if she had been burned. "I'm-"

"No, that's perfectly all right, I understand," he rose from the armchair.

After opening her mouth and having nothing to say, Seraphim stepped forward and moved to touch Draco's shoulder. She took a deep breath and sighed, looking around aimlessly, finally settling on his eyes. "I _don't_ understand."

A hint of the old spark was back in Draco's eyes, "But you're a professor, Professor. Don't you understand everything?"

Seraphim shook her head uncertainly, not in the mood for games. "No, I don't," she paused, as though not quite sure how to express her thoughts. She finally settled for a single word, "Why?"

"Why what?" Draco snapped, a muscle twitching in his jaw.

"Why me?" Seraphim explained, shifting uneasily.

"Why not you?" he asked back coolly, averting his eyes. "I _told_ you people see my family."

Seraphim was transported to the morning by the lake and bit down a retort. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, I don't need sympathy." Draco made for the door.

"No, wait, please," Seraphim latched onto his sleeve. "Please…"

"What is it?"

_How the hell do you tell someone 'I accept your offer for a romantic relationship and I'm sorry for running out of the room earlier because I have an issue with surprises'?_ "I…um…"

"Hurry up woman, I may not have class tomorrow but I still need to sleep," Draco muttered.__

"I'm sorry for…for running away from you…twice. And…I'm sorry for…being a hypocrite…about your family. And I'm sorry for…" she sighed miserably, "everything."

Draco looked at her, skepticism written all over his face. "Right." He continued for the door.

"Damnit, what do I have to do to…to…"

"'To…to…'what?" Draco tapped his foot impatiently. "To tell me that I'm not good enough?"

"I never said that!" Seraphim exclaimed indignantly.

"Well Weasley doesn't seem to-"

"I don't give a damn what Ron thinks about this. Because it is _my_ life. And he should respect that. But he is doing what any good guy friend or protective older brother would do. And that is all right." Seraphim had grabbed Draco's collar and pulled him down to eye level. Her eyes widened upon realizing just how close they were. Draco was bending almost uncomfortably, his head jerked upward so that his forehead wouldn't hit her nose. "I…I'm sorry," she said immediately, releasing him.

"Don't be, it doesn't matter," Draco replied, yielding, and trying to escape the room once more.

"Stop right there. It _does_ matter. That's why I came back!" Seraphim yanked Draco's sleeve again.

"_What_ is your problem, woman?" Draco's eyes blazed and he ran a hand through his hair. "Just give me an answer already. Yes or no?"

A very pregnant pause descended on the room. Seraphim blinked a couple times.

Stepping forward, raising her chin and squaring her shoulders, she smiled uncertainly. "Yes."

A few floors up, Ron had just received a message from Fred and George. He and Hermione burst into the sixth-year boy's dormitory.

"Harry, wake up!"

"Mpghh…" Harry's head appeared once more. "_What_?"

"Look at this, look at it!" Ron shoved two pieces of parchment in front of Harry's face. The first contained a letter that looked like something from a social club. The second explained that it was intercepted by the Order and the bird carrying it carried the Malfoy crest on its left foot. Fred and George explained that they'd snitched a copy and figured the dream team could have a go at it since they always ended up solving the mysteries anyway.

"Looks like a letter to Malfoy's mum," Harry muttered sleepily.

"You're not fun. It's obviously a secret code!" Ron exclaimed excitedly. When Harry did not look enthused, he heaved a sigh. "Let's go find Seraphim, I bet she's still in the Room of Requirement." Grabbing Hermione's hand and the letters, they sped off.

It took a few seconds for the information to sink into Harry's sleep-filled brain. Room of Requirement. That was where Seraphim was, true. And Malfo- "_Shit_," Harry scrambled out of bed and raced after his friends.

The three Gryffindors burst into a very odd situation. Their professor who was also their roommate and good friend was sitting with their arch nemesis and had just been engaged in a slightly-less-than-innocent kiss when the door opened. Seraphim jumped about a mile.

Ron reddened. "_You're_-"

Hermione promptly shut him up with a silencing charm. "Well done," she smiled amusedly. "Sorry to interrupt, but, Seraphim, would you take a look at this and see if you can make hide or hair of it?"

_Faith, darling,_

_Oh, the sunset is just marvelous from where I sit and the moonrise is so glorious. I hope you're well. And I hope your flowerbeds are being well taken care of. Everything is just darling. I just read the most wonderful story; it's called "The Seizing Defeat." I insist you read it and let me know what you think. It's a scream!_

_I also want you to know that we'll be taming the fledgling you found a while ago. Poor dear doesn't quite have his feet straight yet. But don't worry. The old joker will be there to keep an eye on things!_

_Ah, I'm wanted at dinner._

_Hugs and Kisses,_

Zumi 

Draco was reading over Seraphim's shoulder. "That's addressed to my father."

Ron stopped struggling against Harry and Hermione to soundlessly yell, "_What_?"

In response to the incredulous stares, Draco continued. "Faith. _Foi_ is faith. It's a code."

"I _told_ you!" Ron attempted to tell Hermione, who finally remembered to give Ron his voice back.

"But um…Malfoy," Hermione began uneasily, "your father's, well, in Azkaban."

Draco snorted, "No he isn't."

Harry blinked.

"And sunset and moonrise are the fall and rise of light and dark, respectively," Draco added for good measure, smirking at his superiority.

"How do _you_ know that?" asked Ron accusingly.

Draco gave the second youngest Weasley a look of pure disgust. "Because it's addressed to _my_ father," and adding quietly, "idiot."

"I'll deal with you later," Ron glared at the blonde.

"Well," Hermione shifted from foot to foot, "what does the rest of it mean?"

"The flowerbeds are obviously my mother; Narcissa."

"What's the story?" asked Harry.

Draco shrugged. "Damned if I know."

Seraphim scowled. "Seizing defeat…seizing …seize…er…seize…e- Ceaser!" she exclaimed triumphantly. "The defeat of Ceaser."

"Which was when?" asked Ron.

"Why would they say 'story'…why not 'novel' or 'book,'" asked Hermione to no one in particular.

"Maybe," Harry thought, "maybe it's referring to someone who told of Ceaser's defeat."

"Shakespeare!" Hermione exclaimed. "But when…"

"The ides of March," Harry interjected. "March fifteenth."

"But-"

"It's the one date in Shakespeare's plays that everyone remembers," he explained.

Draco and Ron looked extremely lost. "But what's going to happen on March fifteenth?" asked Ron.

"Maybe it's in the next part of the letter," Hermione suggested.

"Fledgling…" Ron's head shot up. "Hermione, are all baby winged creatures called fledglings?"

"Um…most of them…"

"What about…dragons?" he ventured tentatively.

"I guess you could call them that. I mean, the more correct term would be-"

Hermione didn't get to finish her sentence. Draco slammed his fist into the table. "_Damnit_!"

"What's wrong?" Seraphim asked, moving closer to Draco.

"It's me."

"What?" asked Harry, puzzled.

"A fledgling…a baby dragon. To 'tame' them," he looked at the four blank faces. "They want to initiate me on March fifteenth you idiots."

Seraphim bit her lip at the 'idiots' part. "Are you…sure?" she asked, ignoring the insult.

"The old joker," said Harry, not paying attention. "Hermione, have you ever seen that Muggle show, 'Batman'?"

Hermione nodded.

"What were the villains' names again?"

"_All_ of them?" she asked, eyebrows raised.

"No…well," Harry looked up. "Just two of them. Weren't there two named Joker and…"

"The Riddler!" Hermione exclaimed. "It's Tom Riddle."

"The 'old joker' is Voldemort," Harry set his mouth grimly, the simplicity of the letter was quite genius. It was so straightforward one wouldn't usually give it a second glance. "Well, I guess that solves that."

Draco swore.

"What's wrong with you? I'd have thought you'd be _happy_ about being initiated into the Death Eaters," Ron sneered.

"Draco!" Seraphim grabbed his arm as it moved convulsively. "Don't. Both of you stop. He's just helped us decode this message. Do you really think he'd-"

"Yes," said Ron hotly.

"Well…" Seraphim sighed, "he hasn't done anything wrong yet so be civil to each other. For my sake, please."

"_He's_ the one who's been sending you presents?" Ron sighed exasperatedly.

"Yes."

"Ahem!" Hermione coughed. "Perhaps we should figure out who Zumi is," she said, attempting to change the subject.

"'S Pettigrew," said Ron. "Zumi, like _nezumi_. It means rat in Japanese."

This time, four pairs of bewildered eyes turned to Ron.

"What?"

Harry shook his head, "I'll go pen a letter to your brothers, tell them we figured it out." He quickly excused himself.

"I'll come with you!" Hermione, wanting to escape the tension, followed suit leaving Seraphim, Ron, and Draco in the room.

"So…"

"Truce?" asked Draco, tentatively extending his hand.

Ron, looking quite disgruntled, stuck out his hand as well, "Truce."

They shook on it.

"But I swear, if you hurt her, I'll-"

"Don't worry, Potter threatened me already," Draco explained.

"Good. It goes double for me," Ron stated clearly.

"You know, Weasley, I don't doubt that."

Seraphim sighed; it was a start.


	18. Pieces of Parchment

AN: Okay guys. This is chapter sixteen. Which was somewhat of a pain to write but needs to be in here and came out better than I expected. So yay! I did enjoy writing it after a bit. I hope you enjoy reading it! Chapter 16: Pieces of Parchment 

Seraphim and Draco were walking outside the castle when bursts of laughter reached their ears. Peering out from behind a stone pillar, they saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione engaged in a mini snowball war. There were currently seeker missiles pelting Ron and Hermione had just trodden on a snowball ground mine. Harry was rolled up to look like a giant snowball and was attempting to get back on his feet.

Stifling a chuckle, Draco pulled Seraphim back and bent down; he then began making a snowball. It was a good snowball, about the size of an orange and packed firmly so that it wouldn't fall apart in the air. Muttering under his breath, Draco touched the tip of his wand to the snowball, which glowed an orangey-red for a brief moment.

"What are you doing?" asked Seraphim, raising an eyebrow.

"Watch and see," Draco stood and dusted off his trousers. Taking careful aim, he flung the snowball at the back of Ron's head.

"Draco!"

"Wait, wait, wait," he said, pulling her back and putting his hand over her mouth, "just watch."

The snowball slowly trickled down Ron's robes like all the snowballs before it. "Draco, nothing's happening and that wasn't very nice," Seraphim sounded very muffled because of Draco's hand.

"_Woman_, just wait for it."

Ron began to tug at his scarf. "Whew, it's getting a bit warm, isn't it?" he asked the other two.

Harry stopped in mid-throw and was immediately pelted by Hermione. He got up shivering and wiping his glasses, "What do you mean, warm? It's quite chilly."

"No, it's," Ron paused to toss his scarf off, "it's getting kind of hot."

Seraphim's brow furrowed as Ron began to turn from a healthy windblown pink to a rather bright red. "Draco," she hissed, "what did you do?"

Suddenly, Ron let out a yelp and began rolling in the snow. Steam began to pour from his ears. "Hot! It's hot! _Hot_!"

"Draco!" shouted Seraphim accusingly, unwillingly attracting the attention of three snowball-infested students.

A few hours later, they all trudged back to the entrance hall wet, tired, and cold. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Seraphim bid Draco goodbye and headed for the Gryffindor tower. Seraphim and Hermione went to work on some elemental charms (controlling the elements for a given area) and Ron was soon immersed in a game of wizard chess against the self-playing set Harry had gotten him for his last birthday.

Harry decided to go up to the dormitory and write to Remus. After a long internal debate and the sharp reality that the enemy's forces were gathering, Harry had resolved to tell Remus how to work Sirius' last gift as a liaison between the physical and astral planes.

He grabbed a quill and some parchment, settled on his bed, and began to write.

_Dear Remus,_

_I hope you're well._

Harry stopped. How did one word such information delicately? He couldn't simply say 'Oh, guess what? We've figured out how to contact Sirius from beyond the grave.' Frowning, Harry dipped his quill into the inkwell and continued.

_I'm glad we could help with that last letter Fred and George sent over. At least we're of some good while at Hogwarts._

He paused again. In the last letter, he'd conveniently forgotten to mention Draco's aid in the decoding. Harry wondered what the Order would think of Lucius Malfoy's son helping them.

_There are a few things that I haven't mentioned to you yet._

Harry bit his lip and sighed. What to write, what to write.

_Since the end of last school year, Ron, Hermione, and myself have figured out a way to use Sirius' last gift of the two-way mirror to speak with him. Well, actually Hermione figured it out. That's where Snape's missing bottle of _ssiro mulorr_ got to. It involves a verbalius charm, the videum potion, and quite a strong etatisucer spell. It works something like the reverse spell effect we told you about after the triwizard tournament the year after you left._

Reading over what he'd written, Harry decided it wasn't the best way to break the news, but that time was getting short and it would have to do.

_I'm telling you this now because of that letter we decoded. Also, Lucius Malfoy's son, Draco, and Seraphim, Professor McGonagall's niece, are_

Harry lingered on the word. Dating? Seeing each other socially? Going together?

_together. It was through his help that we were able to decode so much of the message. He's also expressed his unwillingness to join the Death Eaters. I just thought you'd want to know._

_Between you and me, Ron and I aren't too sure of him. Hermione, because she's a girl, thinks that he's changed for Seraphim. Or that he was that way from the beginning. I don't know._

_We just want you to know that we want to help the Order in any way we can. I'm unsure as to how vital this information may be but, again, thought I'd let you know._

He signed his name at the bottom and walked to the Owlery to send it off. He met a very pregnant pause when he re-entered the common room. Seraphim had gone off to see her aunt and Ron and Hermione were waiting for him.

"Did you tell them?"

"Yeah, I just sent Hedwig," Harry explained.

"About Sirius _and_ Malfoy?" asked Ron.

"Yeah."

"Well, now all there is to do is wait," said Hermione, opening _The Standard Book of Spells: Grade Six_ and beginning to read up on confundus charms.

"Yeah," echoed Harry, "all there is to do is wait."

A few days later, as everyone was eating breakfast in the great hall, Julian dropped a letter in Seraphim's lap. Looking at the waxy seal, Seraphim's countenance took on a look of concern. She tucked the letter in her bag and quickly excused herself from the table, heading for her room.

Locking the door, she flopped on her bed and broke the seal of the letter. As she'd expected, staring up at her was the slightly messy writing of Moody. It was done in the traditional code of the Order. Seven different obscure languages, one word from each in a specific order.

Seraphim, 

_We've received word from a reliable source that you're dating that Death Eater's son. Remember, they're great actors, all of them. Keep your nose out of trouble. If he's really going to help us, tell Severus and he'll question the kid. Severus is good at that. Also, that letter is a substantial clue that we're all going to need to be on guard. They're recruiting already. Don't go anywhere with that boy alone until Severus has spoken with him, do you understand? Constant vigilance!_

_It will be vital that you make your decision before the end of the school year. I have just been informed that old allies can be contacted and will be our liaison to the astral planes. With you and Tonks aiding us, our forces will be considerably stronger than the last time we were tested. The enemy isn't the only one doing recruiting._

_Stay out of trouble; keep your eyes and ears open. Some of them Slytherins will be recruited as well before the year is out, I'm sure of it. If that boy is being recruited, they're looking to strengthen their forces in any way they can. We've also found out that the Dementors have been bought out. Them Azkaban prisoners will be loose before autumn, mark my words, and then we'll have a time putting them back._

_If you don't take over your aunt's position, we'll ask you to go undercover. A Mage and a Metamorphmagus oh our side plus some otherworldly help will strengthen our forces. I'm quite sure the three lions will want to join once their schooling is finished as well. Keep a sharp eye on them while you're there. I probably don't need to tell you, but they're marked beings. It's only a matter of time before an attack is made. Constant vigilance!_

_I'll advise you to begin teaching those three how to defend themselves with their minds. The exploration of the wandless magic field is a bit limited because the research is new. We didn't know until a short while ago that controlled wandless magic in normal witches and wizards was possible. But now that we do, it is vital that those three learn as much as they can. As I said, they're marked. A surprise attack isn't too low for the enemy._

_Make sure you keep an eye out for yourself too. Can't have you getting dragged off to who-knows-where. Remember what I said about the Slytherin boy. Have Severus interrogate him or don't be near him if you can help it._

_Moody_

Seraphim sighed. Auror Moody was brilliant, true, but his constant paranoia was something of an irritant. She would talk to Professor Snape later after the holiday, of course, but she hardly thought it necessary to question Draco as intensely as the letter suggested.

She also thought about Harry, Ron, and Hermione. She did know that they, especially Harry, were being marked by the Death Eaters. The fiascos she'd heard about for the two previous summers was proof of that. Seraphim had planned to teach them a few hexes and counter curses just in case but the way Moody wrote, it was as if he expected them to fight a war without their wands.

They were too young. Knowing that their society, the world as they knew it, would soon be threatened, who wouldn't think that the time wasn't right? That it was simply a fluke such things should happen to them? But it was reality and there was no fairyland with daisies and fluffy clouds to escape to. This was their reality.

A knock jolted Seraphim out of her reverie. "Who is it?" she called, turning toward the door.

"Over here," said a voice.

Seraphim stood and walked toward the window. Outside, floating on his broomstick, was Draco. "Oh!" Seraphim quickly opened the shutter and let him in. Auror Moody was just paranoid about spending time with Draco, Seraphim reasoned, there wasn't anything wrong.

After a quick peck on the cheek, Draco dragged Seraphim away from the window. "There's something I have to tell you."


	19. Tough Decisions

AN: Okay, so I'm back and here's the next chapter. Yay! It's a lot of back-story and such; I hope I wrote it in a way you find entertaining. Some of it is a little uncomfortable but…:shrugs: it gets the job done. And I kinda like it. So I hope you like it too! 

**Chapter 17: Tough Decisions**

They sat down on the bed, "What is it? What's wrong?" Seraphim could see worry etched on Draco's face. Something wasn't right.

"My father," he began in a strained voice, "he wrote me a letter. He's always known that I never fully inherited his…obsession…with helping the Dark Lord. He's let me have time; he's always thought that time would bring me over. That being enemies with Harry would automatically make me choose the side he wasn't on when it was time to decide."

"What are you talking about?" asked Seraphim. Draco was so obviously torn.

"He wrote to me…he originally told me I had until after seventh year to decide what I wanted to do but now, you read the other letter, he wants me initiated in March," Draco sighed heavily.

They were quiet for a long time, the seriousness of the situation sinking in. When it was just an unconfirmed warning, they were fine; now they knew it was the truth. "What are you going to do?"

Draco had a very hard time answering. "I don't want to. But…he's my father," he explained. "My grandfather was one of the Dark Lord's friends in school and he taught my father well. He expects the same of me and I would follow him…except I know it's wrong. My family has never had to fight against their friends, the ones they loved, before. We were always very careful to keep to our own circles."

"So what are you going to do?" Seraphim looked worriedly at him. Here, once again, was the Draco she had spoken with at the lake; unsure of himself, human.

"I don't know. It's not for the money that I would stay either. They would never disown me, they couldn't. There must always be a Malfoy heir and I'm an only child. My mother nearly died when I was born; my father would never allow another child, he loves her too much," Draco explained. "And in the strangest way, I know…I know he loves me too. So I can't leave them. I can't. I don't want to fight with them but I don't want to fight against them. They're my family, and even though they've been corrupted, I still love them." He looked up at Seraphim helplessly, "Is that wrong?"

"No," she said quickly, embracing him, "to love anyone is never wrong."

"I guess that if my rivalry with Potter had continued, I wouldn't mind fighting against him when the time came and it would be all right. But now I feel indebted to him and…I kind of like him. Even Weasley and Granger. They're not as bad as I thought they were. And if I had to, you know, I don't know if I could," Draco paused. "And you…"

"Me?" Seraphim looked up, her arms still secure around him.

"I could never fight you. I know you would support Potter, and I know I would have to fight you if you did," Draco looked away, slightly pink. "And I can't do it."

"If it makes you feel better, I probably wouldn't have to heart to hex you if it wasn't in fun either," Seraphim smiled.

Draco mock-glared at her. "I was being serious."

"So was I," Seraphim sat up on her knees and looked at him. "I know you don't want to become a Death Eater but that you love your parents. There is nothing wrong about that. And the decision, to be estranged from your parents and possibly fight them, that you're considering is a very difficult one." She grabbed both of Draco's shoulders firmly, "I can't make it for you. It seems we've both been making decisions lately and realizing they're not things other people can do for us. Of course, I wish I could tell you what to do for selfish reasons, but that's not the way it works. So I want you to know that whatever you decide to do, it won't affect my opinion of you. I respect you for your devotion."

"Seraphim," Draco sighed, "I…thank you."

"You're welcome."

"This isn't what I wanted," he said after a long pause. "This isn't the way it's supposed to be."

Seraphim thought back to her musings before he'd knocked on the window. "That's what everyone says."

"That's because it's true," Draco kissed the top of her head.

"What's going to happen to us?" asked Seraphim.

"What?" Draco looked down at her confusedly.

"_Us_. You and me. If we somehow survive all of this. What's going to happen?" Seraphim was looking at him with a sad sort of look in her eyes, as though she didn't really expect them to survive.

Draco thought a moment. "I suppose…we'd go on being us… Will you be coming back to teach next year?"

"I don't know. I've been thinking…" she bit her lip. "I've been thinking of becoming an Auror. Of course I'd have to train first, but they say that Mages are really good for undercover work and I'd like to- I don't know. Everything I say, everything I _do_, has some effect on what happens in the future." Seraphim looked around helplessly. "I'm scared of making a mistake."

"Everyone makes mistakes," Draco reasoned, pulling her closer.

"But these mistakes are the kind of mistakes that you can't fix. The choices we make at this point in our lives, especially with what's happening now, will affect us forever. I don't want that hanging over my head, that whatever choices I make will be with me." Seraphim looked pleadingly at Draco. "I can't handle making the wrong decisions. I like to be in charge, to know what's going on. To think that I could make a decision that would unintentionally hurt some I cared for is…unthinkable. It's not an option."

A look of intangible sadness crossed Draco's features. "I know what you mean." He sighed heavily before continuing, "We really aren't so different. We're both afraid to do things, certain things." He shut his eyes. "We'll figure something out."

"We shouldn't have to grow up this fast, be unable to make mistakes," Seraphim added. "But I trust you."

"Come on," said Draco, shifting sideways and noticing the clock, "you should be getting to sleep. There's a class we both have to go to in the morning. The winter holiday has just ended."

"All right." Seraphim turned down the bed quickly. "Don't be late."

Draco chuckled. "I won't be. Good night," he said, kissing her forehead, nose, and then lips.

"Good night," she replied, getting into bed as he made his way to the window.

"Seraphim," Draco turned, his eyes greatly conflicted.

"Mmhmm?"

"I…nothing, nevermind. Good night," he said quickly, grabbing his broomstick and making for the window.

"Good night." Seraphim's eyes lingered on the window after it had shut, her mind filled with unease.

As Draco sped away on his broom, similar thoughts plagued him. Seraphim, though having some sly qualities that might endear her to a Slytherin such as himself, was quite a Hufflepuff and would, in all probability, stay to defend Potter and her friends and family if Draco was enlisted in the Death Eaters as per his father's wishes. Her undying loyalty and devotion to her loved ones was admirable, he had to admit it; but a small part of Draco wondered, if the event were to occur, if she would stand up for him against his foes as well.

He genuinely liked being around Seraphim. Of course, there were some people he genuinely liked, but they were friends he'd had his entire life. People like Blaise and Pansy who understood what he was going through, people who were going through the same thing. Their parents weren't as adamant about them joining the dark side, but his friends were being pressured. Crabbe and Goyle had been pulled out of school when their parents were found by the ministry smuggling information to certain other Death Eaters. They were on the run. It was only a matter of time before they would be initiated.

Draco landed in his deserted common room; all the other Slytherins had left for the holiday. They were to be with their parents, some for festive reasons, other to inquire as to which side they planned to be on when the war began. He got into his own bed and drew the green velvet curtains, brooding in the darkness. Seraphim. He wanted do as his father asked out of devotion to his parents; they were hard but he knew they loved him dearly. And he did love them; there were his parents. _But Seraphim,_ a voice nagged in the back of his mind, _what about Seraphim?_

Draco was unsure where exactly his feelings for Seraphim stood. He obviously cared for her. Cared for her a great deal already to go against the grain and begin to court her. Something about her made him smile more. He was confused. Taking out the letter from his father, he smoothed the creases and traced the familiar signature.

"Father…"

The man who had protected him when he was a child was the man he was trying to run from, the destiny mapped out for him that he was trying to escape. The torn feeling was unfamiliar, unsettling. It was a decision he did not want to have to make.

Draco leaned back into his pillow; sleep was not forthcoming.

Seraphim also lay awake in the dark. So many decisions, choices, things to do. She didn't have time to do them all and time was the one thing she didn't have enough of. She wanted to be able to protect her loved ones; that meant her family and friends, didn't it? So where did Draco fall in the vast spectrum of things? He was certainly more than a friend. Being forced to grow up quickly meant making decisions one didn't usually make at such a young age, the decision Seraphim was toying with at the moment. Falling in love.

She certainly liked Draco Malfoy. When he put his mind to it, he really was a likable character. Always ready with a snarky comment, always with that devilish grin; he, like all the students at Hogwarts, taught her to be more carefree. Of course, she liked him for more than his wit and his looks. They had a certain understanding of each other, not a full understanding, but a good one.

Perhaps she would become a mediwitch if they were to be split up. Then she could be sure never to harm him. But she couldn't help protect her friends that way either. Everything was connected to whether or not they stayed together and that decision would be the hardest one to make. If she stayed with Draco, they could essentially be happy with each other and be uncertain about the rest of their lives. If they did not stay together, a heart or two might be broken. It was both a very simple and very difficult decision.

And what exactly was love? Respect, reverence? Caring? Was it undying devotion? Was it an emotional lust? And what exactly did she feel toward him? He was safety to her, calm, secure, someone to turn to and someone to support. He was a partner, a kindred spirit. She felt content in his presence, but surely love was more than that. She felt safe with her friends; she felt security there. So, pushing aside all carnal attraction, what was the distinction between friend and lover?

Was it a quickening of the heartbeat, a blush creeping over the cheeks? Did one's skin burn pleasantly when touching your soul mate? Or did a smile creep over one's face upon seeing the object of their affections? A wistful look came over Seraphim's features when she imagined how being young and in love might feel in a time other than her own, not filled with such uncertainty.

When sleep finally claimed her, Seraphim's dreams were filled with faceless strangers and fleeting embraces. Soft touches and gentle words she could not understand. And a whispered promise that carried her to the stars.

Firstly, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Secondly, whether you liked it or not, please review to tell me how I'm doing. Like those stickers on the backs of trucks that say 'How's my driving?' I like those; they're cute.

Anyway, keep them reviews coming because they really do add to the morale and the whole writing capability thing. :smiles: Um, I think that's everything important. Thanks for reading, please review, and good night!


	20. The First of Many

**Chapter 18: The First of Many**

If anyone was surprised to see Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasely, and McGonagall's niece meeting up with Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, and Blaise Zabini the Hogsmeade weekend after Valentine's Day, they didn't say anything about it. They didn't make any comments about the slight lip action Draco received from Seraphim when Blaise found some leftover mistletoe from Christmas either, probably out of sheer disbelief. Or the fact that the only way to explain the phenomenon was hallucination.

After dropping in at the Three Broomsticks for some butterbeer, Blaise and Pansy separated from the group for their dinner engagement. Seraphim and Draco also opted for eating in the village. Saying goodbye to the remaining three, they watched as Harry, Ron, and Hermione made their way up to the shrieking shack.

Draco took Seraphim's hand as they wound their way through the crowded streets of Hogsmeade. For this one day, worries were pushed aside and his only concern was for fun. "Where would you like to go?" he asked, gray eyes sparkling with something like innocence.

Seraphim looked up, "Um… Somewhere warmer, it's going to begin snowing soon."

Draco nodded; they followed at a fair distance behind Harry, Ron, and Hermione, making for a small restaurant that was not crowded yet. As they passed Zonko's, he noticed someone strangely familiar; a woman with dark eyes, like sapphires or onyx. As he searched the recesses of his mind, trying to figure out who the woman was and why she was familiar, a stray wisp of hair escaped the hood of her dark, heavy cloak. Silver-white. Draco froze.

"What is it?" asked Seraphim, bumping her nose on his back. Seeing the look of confusion and disbelief on his face, she frowned, "Is something wrong, Draco?"

Draco ignored the question and looked over the tops of people's heads. The woman, Lady Dae, had been introduced to him when he was very small. A Christmas Party held by his father at Malfoy Manor saw her as a guest the year Draco turned nine. He remembered her piercing gaze and long, pointed fingernails that pinched when she shook his hand. He'd also heard his father speak of her many times, calling her the Snow Queen. Not a Death Eater, but one of the best assassins in the Northern Hemisphere. She was difficult to hire, expensive, and difficult to find when you needed her. Lady Dae, the lady of shadows.

"Draco," Seraphim was becoming impatient, "what is the matter?"

He saw her eyes fix on Harry's forehead and the smallest of smiles graced her lips. She began walking with more of a purpose, walking to another unsuspecting victim. "Potter…"

Seraphim tapped Draco on the shoulder. "What's wrong?"

Snapping out of his previous immobile state, Draco grabbed Seraphim's hand and followed the others up the road, willing them to turn around and go back to safety. Yelling to warn them would result in a messy and unpleasant death, not catching up would result in a clean one. The only other alternative was to wait and follow.

Seraphim resisted the hand pulling on her wrist. "Draco, what are you doing?" she asked, annoyed. Her arm was beginning to hurt from the force he was pulling with.

"We've got to catch up with them," he muttered, half to himself.

"What?" Seraphim stopped dead and yanked Draco backwards by his collar. "Is that why you're trying to pull my arm out if its socket?"

"Come _on_!" Not bothering to explain, Draco gave a hard pull and Seraphim went flying after him, willing her legs to keep running in the deepening snow.

Lady Dae had disappeared from the crowd, Draco suspected she was using an invisibility cloak, and he hurried forward through the rapidly thinning crowd.

"Dra-mph!" Seraphim felt a hand over her mouth.

"That woman that was standing in front of Zonko's is an assassin and she's going to kill Potter because she's working for the Dark and we can't let her know we're here or she won't wait for the right moment." Heaving a slightly more cooperative, read: dumbstruck, Seraphim by her wrist once more, they hurried up the hill after the others.

As they neared the end of the street, Draco spotted Harry, Ron, and Hermione talking quietly while leaning on the wooden posts of the barbed-wire fence surrounding the Shrieking Shack. A feeling of resentment came over him that he quickly squashed; being mad about the time in third year when Potter splashed him with mud did not matter when trying to save Potter's life.

"I don't see anyone Draco, you're being silly," Seraphim looked around as they hurried down the road. "You're not going to throw snowballs at Ron again, are you?"

"No," Draco hissed, "do you see that bit of black gliding along the floor over there?" He pointed at the edge of the forest.

Seraphim squinted; in the growing dark, she could just make out a sliver of cloak. "What _is_ that?"

"It's Lady Dae's cloak." Seeing the blank expression on Seraphim's face, Draco rolled his eyes, "I'll explain later, _hurry up_."

Pushing Seraphim in front of him, Draco made sure she was hurrying, reluctantly and disbelievingly, to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Secure in his belief that Granger, Weasley, _and_ Seraphim would be enough to protect Potter, he headed for the forest.

Grabbing Harry's shoulder to slow down, Seraphim stooped to catch her breath. "Well…hello."

"Hi Seraphim," Ron tossed the snowball he'd been toying with over his shoulder, "where's your other half?"

Seraphim's face took on an irritated expression, "Forest somewhere. Seems to think there's a woman who's going to assassinate you Harry."

She was met with three expressions of varying blankness.

"Yeah, that's what I said."

Rolling his eyes at the disbelievers, Draco continued into the pine trees skirting the road. A few moments tense searching revealed the familiar black sliver. He watched as Lady Dae removed her invisibility cloak and drew her wand from her pocket. Breaking into a run, he succeeded in knocking her over just as she muttered, "_Imperio_!"

They both landed with an "oof!" in the snow just as Seraphim stepped in front of Hermione to tug Ron's sleeve, accidentally jostling his wand from his pocket, and leaving Harry unattended. Draco turned quickly to see who had been hit. Of course, the Imperius curse is difficult to detect simply because there aren't any signs other than absence of free will.

Chuckling to herself, Lady Dae spoke up, "It doesn't really matter who I hit, my work here is done. Figure it out if you want but I'd run for my life if I were you." With another laugh, she disapparated.

Scrambling to his feet, Draco ran over to the others. "Which one of you did she hit?"

They looked at him strangely. "Who's 'she'?"

"Lady, oh nevermind." Draco scrutinized them all for a moment.

"Draco, sweetheart, what are you doing?" asked Seraphim, giving him a coy glance.

"I'm…thinking…" he replied. He stopped seeing Ron's wand tucked in Seraphim's left pocket. Realization following discovery, Draco pushed Ron and Hermione in front of Harry and sent them down the hill. "Get out of here!"

Not needing to be told twice, Hermione grabbed the arms of the two boys and hurried with them down the road. "What about you?" she yelled as they disappeared in the snow.

"Don't worry, I'll get Weasley's wand back!"

Hermione was about to shout back "That's not what I meant!" but a flurry of snow obscured her vision and she busied herself with pushing Harry and Ron to a more crowded area.

Back near the Shrieking Shack, Seraphim had gone rigid. A pleasant airy feeling engulfed her. She felt like she was floating, falling into a dream. _Get rid of the obstacle._

"Seraphim, snap out of it," Draco took her by the shoulders and shook hard.

Destroy him! 

No, said something in the back of her head, I can't… Not him…

He's in the way; incapacitate him immediately. 

But it's Draco…I can't hurt Draco, she reasoned with herself. But the other voice, the commanding one, was getting louder and harder to disobey.

Kill him. Do it now. 

No! I can't! She was screaming in her head, screaming at nothing, something that couldn't hear her and didn't care.

"Seraphim! I can't break an Imperius, come on!" Draco shook her more vigorously.

Kill him! 

No! But she was losing the battle; her grip on self-control was ebbing.

Seraphim placed her hands squarely over Draco's chest and looked into his eyes. _Do it now…_

For a long moment, they stood in the snow. Draco could feel his heart beating wildly, the wood of Weasley's wand pressing into his chest, the intensity of Seraphim's gaze.

"_AVADA-_"

In the Gryffindor common room, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were reviving from their sprint over a hot cup of tea. "What the bloody hell was that all for?" asked Ron irritably, stirring a cinnamon stick into his mug.

"From what I can gather, there was a woman sent to assassinate Harry by Voldemort," Hermione explained. "She must have done something to Seraphim, that's why she stole your wand, and Draco must have known what was wrong since he told us to run."

Harry and Ron stared at her expectantly.

"I think he just saved our lives."

The speed at which jaws dropped in disbelief was immeasurable.

Closing his eyes tightly, Draco did the only thing he could think of to save his life. Leaning down quickly, he kissed Seraphim, efficiently shutting off her mouth from finishing the incantation. She struggled, pushing against him, trying to get away. He crushed her lips even more desperately with his own. 'Come to your senses,' he pleaded silently, 'know me again.'

'Know me again…' the words echoed in Seraphim's mind. She felt warmth over her mouth, an arm around her waist. There was a hand behind her neck, tilting her head up. Soft lips pressed urgently, hungrily. She was sinking to the ground, the cold of the snow chilling her legs.

She closed her eyes, loosing herself in the subtle sensations. Chocolate and…champagne? Silk. Coffee. Warmth. Safety. They enveloped her, drawing her into their core, fusing her into them until she couldn't tell where they met, only that they were. Oddly familiar sensations she'd felt before, known before, been before. 'Draco…'

The world spun as she surrendered to the kiss; allowing the feeling to wash over her, take her over. Tangling her gloved fingers in blonde hair _-silk_-, breathing in deeply the scent that was his alone _-coffee-_, feeling his arms around her -_warmth-_, being caught up in the taste of him -_chocolate, champagne-_. She relinquished hold of herself to him -_safety-_.

When he dared to release her, Draco searched her eyes for some form of recognition. "Seraphim?"

She blinked and shook her head to clear her thoughts. She took a deep breath, pocketing Ron's wand, "That was the best damn kiss I've ever had."

Draco grinned as he hugged her and sighed with relief. "You have no idea how scared I was."

Seraphim hugged him tightly, "You're not the only one. There was this…voice inside my head, it told me to- to hurt you." She shuddered, "I almost did."

"Lady Dae placed you under an Imperius curse," he explained. "We should get back to the castle and have Potter warn Dumbledore. I'm not sure how…trusting of me he'll be."

"Draco," Seraphim tugged him back, "I didn't hurt you, did I? I can't really remember."

"No," he said, helping her to her feet. "We're all fine."

"I'm glad…and I'm sorry," Seraphim apologized, suddenly fascinated with the toes of her boots.

Draco lifted her chin, "There's nothing to be sorry for. Come on, we've got to see if your Dream Team has made it back in one piece." He smiled. "It's all right, don't worry."

Seraphim beamed. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it. Come on," said Draco, taking her hand, "that's enough fun in the village for one day."

Together, they hurried back to the castle.

Outside of Malfoy Manor, a witch waited impatiently. When the door opened, she was let into a magnificently decorated office where Lucius Malfoy was signing some papers. "Be quick, what is it you want?"

"I've some information sir, information that might interest you greatly," she said with a smirk.

"Come on then, out with it. I haven't got all day," he said irritably, spot-checking a report.

"Your son is not as loyal as you think." The witch swept a strand of silver behind her ear, "Very disloyal."

"Lady Dae," Lucius Malfoy rose, "kindly do not insult my family. What goes on in it is our business; if you'll excuse me, Hector will see you out." The butler promptly ushered Lady Dae to the front gate.

Disgruntled but happy, she pocketed the small bag of coins. "As long as it pays," she whispered contentedly, disapparating.


	21. Unforgettable Words

**Chapter 19: Unforgettable Words**

A few weeks into March, just as spring came into full swing, Draco and Seraphim took a picnic lunch up to the hill overlooking the Herbology greenhouses. It was a beautiful spot, though not often used, as it was difficult to get to. Draco had tied the picnic basket (courtesy of Dobby) to the end of his broom and had Seraphim sit in front of him when they flew up.

They sat contentedly after lunch in a comfortable silence, Seraphim leaning back against Draco who looked over the grounds. It was a wonder what had come over the students of Hogwarts since the end of winter holidays. It seemed the interesting alliance between Draco and Harry had sparked unification in the school. It was not uncommon to see people from each house chatting companionably in the halls or studying together in the library. Seraphim nearly fainted from shock when she saw Hermione helping a group of Slytherin and Ravenclaw first-years with their transfiguration homework.

Coming back to the present, Draco sighed irritably. "It isn't fair."

Seraphim tilted her head back to look him in the eye, "What isn't fair?"

"I'm not my father," he explained quietly, as if afraid someone else might hear him. "He tries so hard to be my grandfather and expects me to do the same. My father will never be my grandfather but he'll never accept that. I've accepted that I'll never be my father but he doesn't seem to want to listen to me," said Draco bitterly. "And trying to have Potter assassinated, though he isn't on my list of favorite persons, was a dirty, dishonorable thing to do."

Seraphim was at a loss for words; she simply settled back into his embrace and allowed him to continue with his ranting train of thought.

"I know I was…quite angry with Potter when he sent Father to Azkaban at the end of last year but…still. I knew it would break my mother's heart to see him leave home even if she knew he was coming back." Draco snorted. "We wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't for my father. My mother always spoke highly of her sister, Andromeda, when my father wasn't around. If she weren't so devoted to Father, she'd have come to her senses eventually.

"Father is so divided between his idol worship of the Dark Lord and his love for my mother. And me," he added as an afterthought. "He wants me to be proud of him, and I was at one point. I was proud of him standing up to those he opposed; I still admire him for that courage. He so wants to take Grandfather's place beside the Dark Lord. The coveted position has been vacant since Grandfather expired quite some years ago."

Repositioning herself so that she was facing him, Seraphim sighed. "Draco…"

"And I don't want that foul blemish on my arm. The summer before fourth year I could see the outline of my father's getting clearer. Do you know what people call me? In my first year they called me names behind my back too. It's not just Potter. 'Baby Death Eater' they called me; of course, then I was more likely to fulfill their expectations. But now it's simply 'Death Eater' and I couldn't be more insulted. As if I'd want to answer to someone who left my father and escaped on his own! I may be sneaky, but I am not entirely dishonorable," Draco hmph-ed. "And I haven't got the mark either," he said, rolling up the sleeve of his robe. "Do you see the mark anywhere?" he demanded hotly.

Seraphim examined his pale forearm. "No, there's nothing." She shifted again, wrapping her arms around his torso, "Draco, they don't think you're a Death Eater."

"Yes they do. And after what Lady Dae did! How can they-"

"Draco, no one besides you, me, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Uncle Albus know about that," Seraphim reminded him. "And _we_ know what side you're on."

"But still-"

"What exactly did she _do_ to me to get you so riled up?"

Draco shut up. "She used the Imperius on you, remember?" he asked quietly, not wanting to continue the conversation.

"But what did she do…what did she try to make me do?" Seraphim looked up curiously.

"Nothing," said Draco quickly.

"Don't you say that," Seraphim smirked, "you do not kiss someone the way you kissed me unless something really, really big is at stake. Now what did she want to make me do?"

Draco mumbled something incomprehensible.

"What?"

"You tried to _Avada Kedavra_ me," he muttered. Then, seeing the look of horror on Seraphim's face, he added hastily, "But I stopped you after _avada_."

Seraphim's mouth opened and closed wordlessly. She hugged him tightly, "I would never…you _know_ I would never…of my own free will…_never_…I _tried_ to resist…not really paying attention to what it said…just trying to _not do it_…and what if I _did_…" she babbled on for a few moments before Draco, in a last ditch attempt, kissed her again.

"There, feel better?" he asked.

Seraphim shook her head, a deer-in-the-headlights look in her eyes. "_How_?"

"She aimed her wand in your general direction and said _imperio_," Draco explained.

"Ha ha, not funny," Seraphim pouted. "What if I'd really hurt you?"

"I don't think you'd really be able to manage the killing curse, you didn't exactly want to kill me," he replied, brushing strands of hair from his face.

"But the Imperius Curse is supposed to-"

Draco shushed her. "It doesn't matter, it's over. If she'd hit Weasley or Granger, or even Potter for that matter, it would have come out the same and one or more of us would have ended up in some sort of danger." He smiled comfortingly, "Just forget it, okay?"

Shakily, Seraphim ran a finger down his jaw, over his lips, brushing against his cheek. Her finger was soon replaced with her lips; a gentle, pleading caress, asking forgiveness for the crime she'd nearly committed. Pulling away from him, she smiled and looked away, whispering to herself, "I think I love you…"

Draco, who had been enjoying the intimate moment, froze. "C-come again?" he asked weakly.

As if coming to her senses, Seraphim answered him with a "huh?"

"You just…said…"

Realizing her mistake, Seraphim blushed a deep scarlet. "Well, I…um, th-that is to say that. Um." Figuring that, as Draco was not edging slowly away in fear, her thinking out loud didn't wholly disgust him, she tried to rectify her mistake. "I'm sorry, forget I said anything."

"No," Draco caught her hand as she tried to hide her embarrassment. "Did you," he hesitated, "did you mean that?"

Seraphim avoided his eyes for a tense moment. "I…I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. About you…and me. And I don't want to lose you, silly as it sounds. I want to keep you for myself," she whispered, biting her lip. "And…I guess I knew I had to figure it out sooner than later because, well, because of what's going to happen. And, yes, I…I think I do love you." She looked up at him, "Are you mad at me?"

Draco appeared mildly shocked at her question. "Why would I be mad at you?" he asked incredulously.

"Well, I don't know." Seraphim chanced looking him in the eye and blushed. "It's just…"

"I'm," Draco bent down to touch his forehead to Seraphim's. "I'm very flattered."

"Is that…all you have to say?" asked Seraphim disappointedly.

Draco shook his head and smiled, "When I give you an answer, I want to be sure of myself. I could say 'I think', but I want to say 'I know.' Is that all right with you?"

Seraphim blushed. "You _want_ to fall in love with me?"

A light shade of pink tinged Draco's cheeks. "Now, I didn't say _that_…"

"But is that what you meant?" Seraphim looked hopefully up at the speechless blonde.

Draco smirked. "You'll just have to wait and see, won't you?"

Seraphim raised her hand to slap him playfully but was intercepted when he grasped her wrist firmly. "Draco…"

"Just wait," he said, giving her a pleading look.

Mock-glaring at him, Seraphim decided to humor him. "Fine then."

They finished their picnic in a somewhat disgruntled silence.

A few weeks later, Seraphim was writing in the journal Draco had given her. Holed up in her room for the day, she was mildly unhappy that Draco had decided to schedule a last-minute practice for the Slytherin Quidditch team as preparation for their upcoming match against Ravenclaw. If Slytherin won against Ravenclaw, they would be facing Gryffindor for the Quidditch cup for the 'bazillionth time in a row' according to Ron.

Harry and Ron had also gone off to discuss diversionary tactics for the final match. After their victory over Hufflepuff, Gryffindor's position in the last game was secure and the boys wanted to make sure they held on to the cup. Hermione offered to keep Seraphim company but Seraphim had politely declined knowing full well that Hermione had wanted to go to the library to read up on _dysar_ charms.

She was interrupted while planning her next lesson on the theory of spells dealing with telekinesis by a tapping on her window. Peering through her bed hanging and not seeing anyone there, she resumed her writing.

"Now…telekinesis spells are harder without a wand because-" _Tap, tap, tap._ "-you can use your wand to-" _Tap, tap, tap._ "-keep control of the object more easily by-" _Tap, tap, tap. _"-pointing at it without concentrated eye-contact and-" _TAP, TAP, TAP. _"_What the bloody hell is it_?"

Getting off her bed and stomping to the window, she wrenched open the shutter to find Julian pecking incessantly. The falcon swooped in and gave her a dirty look.

"How was I supposed to know it was you?" she asked in her defense. "The only ones who tap on the window are you and Draco and Draco has practice." She thought for a moment. "And _you_ were supposed to be delivering a letter, I sent you off this morning, didn't I?"

Julian ruffled his feathers impatiently and held out his leg. Seraphim raised an eyebrow; there were two different pieces of parchment tied there. One was the reply from her cousin confirming that they'd be seeing her over the summer. The other looked like it was from Draco; he was the only person she knew that used slightly green-tinted parchment for his personal stationary. Sighing, Seraphim tossed Julian some leftover biscuits and waved him away. She preferred to be alone when reading mail from Draco.

_Seraphim,_

_I don't know why, or how, I figured it out during a Quidditch practice, but I had a quill, parchment, and some ink so I decided to tell you. Meet me after practice by the north-end goal posts, please?_

_Draco_

Seraphim rolled her eyes. Why he had to be so vague, she didn't know. Checking the clock, she deduced that practice was nearly over. Grabbing her cloak, she exited the Gryffindor tower and made her way to the Quidditch pitch, careful to keep out of sight of the other Slytherin house team members who might think her rendezvous was a cover-up for spying on them.

Waiting around the goal posts was boring work but Seraphim was rewarded when Draco emerged from the locker room looking fresh and, though she didn't admit it out loud, damn sexy. "Hello, love," she said, kissing him on the cheek. "Have a good practice?"

Draco nodded, "They're getting better."

"So what did you figure out?" asked Seraphim, looking up. "I think it's going to rain," she added as an after thought.

"Seraphim, be serious here please." Draco took her hand and looked her in the eye. "Seraphim…"

She looked at him attentively for about fifteen seconds. When he didn't say anything, she waved her free hand in front of his face. "Draco?"

Leaning in to nuzzle her neck, Draco wrapped his arms around her and whispered softly, "I love you."

Seraphim stiffened, pulled back, and blinked, "I'm dreaming." Shaking her head, she swayed slightly. "I have to be dreaming…I-" she fell to the ground in a dead faint.

"Damn," Draco swore. "Maybe telling her after she pulled three all-nighters in a row was a bad idea." Quickly hoisting her into his arms, he smiled and kissed her forehead. "I love you," he whispered again, hoping Harry and Ron wouldn't dismember him for Seraphim's condition. Grabbing his broom, and praying it didn't slip, as he couldn't bend down to pick it up with a girl in his arms, Draco started for the castle.


	22. Friends of my Enemy

AN:_ Hi guys. Sorry this chapter is kind of short. It doesn't really contribute to the story but I thought it would be a fun bit to stick in there to sort of even out the drama that's been taking place. Heh. So I hope you like it. I'm not too happy with the tail end, but it's better than some other stuff I've written so I guess it's okay-ish. Happy reading!_

**Chapter 21: A Bit of Fun**

Sitting at the edge of the lake, Draco watched Seraphim toss pebbles in the water. They'd come down to get away from the noise and people in the castle so Draco could 'study for the yearly exams'; but so far they'd only accomplished getting into a water fight and noticing that Harry, Ron, Ginny, and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team were holding practice.

"Draco…" Seraphim stood and walked over to the Slytherin, "you're lucky these notes are waterproof. I thought you dragged me out here to keep you company while you studied."

The blonde nodded slyly, "Yes, that was the pretense. But I'm a bit sneaky so maybe it was just a ploy to get you alone so I could have some fun." He grinned cheekily, pulling her down to sit with him.

"You idiot," Seraphim slapped him lightly and pointed at the sheets of parchment. "Study."

Grumbling, Draco began to read over his notes. "When was the Vampire's Guild founded? I don't seem to have it written down."

Seraphim scrunched her nose. "Um…late seventeen hundreds? Early eighteen hundreds? I know it was on December thirteenth, the day after my birthday."

"Hm." Draco continued half-heartedly perusing the sheets of parchment.

Sighing, Seraphim snatched the notes from Draco's hands. "I have an idea," she sing-songed to the annoyed blonde sitting next to her.

Glaring, Draco looked down his nose at her, "What is it?"

"We'll play a game," Seraphim grinned, looking pleased with herself and shuffling through the papers.

"A game," echoed Draco skeptically. He stretched and slid down to lay on the grass, watching Seraphim lazily. "What kind of game?"

"I'll test you," Seraphim explained, "and you give me answers. A correct answer gets you a point and a wrong answer gets me a point." She smiled, "Most points at the end of the game wins."

Draco rolled his eyes. "But what do they win?"

Seraphim thought for a moment. "Um…whatever they want!" she exclaimed, grinning. There was no way Draco had studied hard enough to beat her and then she'd get him to buy her the new songbook she wanted.

A familiar gleam entered the Slytherin's eye. "Whatever they want?"

Seraphim nodded, confident, "Whatever they want."

Sitting up and smiling cordially, if a bit smugly, Draco gestured to the notes, "Whenever you're ready."

"Okay," Seraphim looked over the notes. "In what year were the properties of the Mandrake root discovered?"

"Twelve seventy-nine, November eighth, noon," Draco smirked.

Jaw unhinged, Seraphim glanced at the paper in disbelief. "Correct…"

Beside them, Draco conjured a tally sheet. "Draco: one, Seraphim: zero."

Grumbling, Seraphim looked over the notes again. "Aha, what are the properties of the Etatisucer charm?"

Deep in thought, Draco wracked his brain for the definition. He'd heard Flitwick explain it once, but hadn't quite been paying attention. "Something about…reflecting…" He sighed. "Oh, it allows you to see another person using the same spell in a reflective surface. It is often combined with the Verbalius Charm for full audio-video communication," he answered proudly.

Seraphim growled as Draco changed the score from one-zero to two-zero. "Fine then." She perused the sheets once more. "Oh, I know. This is a good one. What is the difference between a Amphiptere and a Wyvern dragon?"

Draco bit his lip. "Um…" He mumbled some things to himself. "You know I don't pay attention in that class!" he objected.

"Which is exactly why I should test you on it," retorted Seraphim.

"Um, is it because one has feathered wings and the other bat wings?" he guessed.

"_Wrong!_" Seraphim shouted gleefully. "The Amphiptere can have bat _or_ bird wings but no legs. The Wyvern is like the Amphiptere except it has two legs. A famous Amphiptere is the Quetzalcoatl." She waved at Draco's tally sheet grinning. "Next question…"

When the sun began to dip over the forbidden forest, Seraphim and Draco agreed that the next question was to be the last. Tied at forty-two to forty-two, and each knowing exactly what they wanted when they won, Seraphim perused the now-wrinkled sheets for a really, really tough question.

'Nothing having to do with potions,' she thought to herself. 'And nothing with Defense Against the Dark Arts or Astronomy.' Biting her lip frantically, Seraphim turned to the last page. In the by-now-familiar scrawl of Draco's handwriting, she noticed the bottom of the page was discontinued. Reading to herself, she smirked, 'Griffin-story: chimera, dragon. Intelligence, battle, win. Bloody hell, I'm bored. Monogamous. Closest relative-'

"I'm waiting," Draco gestured to the sun, "and we're going to be late for dinner."

"All right," Seraphim sighed, crossing her arms. "Give me two out of the following three: what is a griffin, what is the story behind the griffin, and what is it's closest relative?"

An unfamiliar gleam appeared in Draco's eyes. "A griffin…" he mused. "A griffin." Mumbling to himself for a few moments, and then nodding, he smiled. "The griffin is an eagle with the hindquarters of a lion. That's easy, Gryffindor mascot. The griffin's stories…there were originally three mythical beasts, my namesake, the chimera, and the griffin. The dragon was unbeatable because of it's fire breathing and the chimera could not be attacked because of its many heads. The griffin watched them and used its intelligence to beat the other two. By luring the dragon underwater, its fire was extinguished and the griffin was the victor. But attacking the chimera from underground, it was caught off-guard and easily vanquished." Draco smirked.

Seraphim's mouth hung open, complete shock radiating from her entire being.

"And," Draco continued, "the closest relative of the griffin is the," he made a face, "hippogriff; an eagle with the hindquarters of a horse."

Seraphim continued to stare at him in disbelief.

"Darling," he said sweetly, inching closer to her, "I believe I've won."

Pouted for a moment. "All right, what is it you want?"

In response, Draco's grim turned feral as he continued to close the difference between them. In a matter of moments, Draco had trapped Seraphim between himself and a tree she'd backed into, blocking her ways of escape with one arm on either side of her. "What do you think?" he asked, playfully nipping at her ear.

"Dra-co," Seraphim rolled her eyes. "Stop playing."

"Who said I was playing?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. The sun had nearly set and they were already going to be quite late for dinner.

"Draco," Seraphim began seriously, "if you wanted to snog, we can do that somewhere warmer and considerably less grass-smelling."

"Aren't you up for a bit of fun?" he grinned, tilting his head to one side.

"Draco…" Seraphim trailed off. It really was getting late. And cold. And grass-smelling. Plus, she was supposed to be the responsible one. "I promise we can snog later. After dinner when it isn't as cold."

Draco pouted. "But I won. To the victor go the spoils, or so I've heard," he smirked. "And it really isn't that cold, is it?" he asked, creeping closer to inhale Seraphim's scent.

Seraphim sighed, shook her head, and smiled. "No, it's not really that cold."

Removing one hand from the tree, Draco tilted Seraphim's chin up and grinned. "Good." Leaning down, Draco began brushing his lips over Seraphim's lightly, continuously, reveling in the feel of her body trapped delicately against his, the way she drew security from his presence. The way her fingers caught in his robes, the way she sighed with each gentle kiss.

Positioning her arms around Draco's neck, Seraphim drew herself up to more firmly connect her lips with his. Feeling his hands on her shoulders, running down her arms and up her back, Seraphim shivered. So ultimately reminded of the indescribably _right_ feeling of their first kiss, a smile crept over her lips.

Soft, quiet laughter escaped Seraphim's parted lips when Draco paused to trail feathery butterfly kisses over her cheekbones. "Draco…"

"Seraphim…" he echoed back, pleased with himself.

Another languid kiss, another sweet whisper; each feeling so completely whole, so unbelievably content, so utterly perfect in one's adoration of the other. Soft touches and soothing caresses fashioned a world where everything made sense and their problems faded.

The day, like their wonderful fantasy world, soon ebbed; the last rays of sun disappearing as the couple parted. Dinner would be well under way in the Great Hall.

"You know," Draco mused as they sought to gather the fallen notes, "this is so much better than the Astronomy Tower."

"Hm?" asked Seraphim, straightening her hair as best she could.

"The Astronomy Tower, it's where everyone else goes to snog, there are too many stairs to climb and it's drafty," Draco explained.

Seraphim laughed and grabbed Draco's hand. "Come on, we'd better get back to the castle or we won't have anything to eat."

"Race you back!"

And they were off.


	23. A Bit of Fun

AN:_ Hi guys. Sorry this chapter is kind of short. It doesn't really contribute to the story but I thought it would be a fun bit to stick in there to sort of even out the drama that's been taking place. Heh. So I hope you like it. I'm not too happy with the tail end, but it's better than some other stuff I've written so I guess it's okay-ish. Happy reading!_

**Chapter 21: A Bit of Fun**

Sitting at the edge of the lake, Draco watched Seraphim toss pebbles in the water. They'd come down to get away from the noise and people in the castle so Draco could 'study for the yearly exams'; but so far they'd only accomplished getting into a water fight and noticing that Harry, Ron, Ginny, and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team were holding practice.

"Draco…" Seraphim stood and walked over to the Slytherin, "you're lucky these notes are waterproof. I thought you dragged me out here to keep you company while you studied."

The blonde nodded slyly, "Yes, that was the pretense. But I'm a bit sneaky so maybe it was just a ploy to get you alone so I could have some fun." He grinned cheekily, pulling her down to sit with him.

"You idiot," Seraphim slapped him lightly and pointed at the sheets of parchment. "Study."

Grumbling, Draco began to read over his notes. "When was the Vampire's Guild founded? I don't seem to have it written down."

Seraphim scrunched her nose. "Um…late seventeen hundreds? Early eighteen hundreds? I know it was on December thirteenth, the day after my birthday."

"Hm." Draco continued half-heartedly perusing the sheets of parchment.

Sighing, Seraphim snatched the notes from Draco's hands. "I have an idea," she sing-songed to the annoyed blonde sitting next to her.

Glaring, Draco looked down his nose at her, "What is it?"

"We'll play a game," Seraphim grinned, looking pleased with herself and shuffling through the papers.

"A game," echoed Draco skeptically. He stretched and slid down to lay on the grass, watching Seraphim lazily. "What kind of game?"

"I'll test you," Seraphim explained, "and you give me answers. A correct answer gets you a point and a wrong answer gets me a point." She smiled, "Most points at the end of the game wins."

Draco rolled his eyes. "But what do they win?"

Seraphim thought for a moment. "Um…whatever they want!" she exclaimed, grinning. There was no way Draco had studied hard enough to beat her and then she'd get him to buy her the new songbook she wanted.

A familiar gleam entered the Slytherin's eye. "Whatever they want?"

Seraphim nodded, confident, "Whatever they want."

Sitting up and smiling cordially, if a bit smugly, Draco gestured to the notes, "Whenever you're ready."

"Okay," Seraphim looked over the notes. "In what year were the properties of the Mandrake root discovered?"

"Twelve seventy-nine, November eighth, noon," Draco smirked.

Jaw unhinged, Seraphim glanced at the paper in disbelief. "Correct…"

Beside them, Draco conjured a tally sheet. "Draco: one, Seraphim: zero."

Grumbling, Seraphim looked over the notes again. "Aha, what are the properties of the Etatisucer charm?"

Deep in thought, Draco wracked his brain for the definition. He'd heard Flitwick explain it once, but hadn't quite been paying attention. "Something about…reflecting…" He sighed. "Oh, it allows you to see another person using the same spell in a reflective surface. It is often combined with the Verbalius Charm for full audio-video communication," he answered proudly.

Seraphim growled as Draco changed the score from one-zero to two-zero. "Fine then." She perused the sheets once more. "Oh, I know. This is a good one. What is the difference between a Amphiptere and a Wyvern dragon?"

Draco bit his lip. "Um…" He mumbled some things to himself. "You know I don't pay attention in that class!" he objected.

"Which is exactly why I should test you on it," retorted Seraphim.

"Um, is it because one has feathered wings and the other bat wings?" he guessed.

"_Wrong!_" Seraphim shouted gleefully. "The Amphiptere can have bat _or_ bird wings but no legs. The Wyvern is like the Amphiptere except it has two legs. A famous Amphiptere is the Quetzalcoatl." She waved at Draco's tally sheet grinning. "Next question…"

When the sun began to dip over the forbidden forest, Seraphim and Draco agreed that the next question was to be the last. Tied at forty-two to forty-two, and each knowing exactly what they wanted when they won, Seraphim perused the now-wrinkled sheets for a really, really tough question.

'Nothing having to do with potions,' she thought to herself. 'And nothing with Defense Against the Dark Arts or Astronomy.' Biting her lip frantically, Seraphim turned to the last page. In the by-now-familiar scrawl of Draco's handwriting, she noticed the bottom of the page was discontinued. Reading to herself, she smirked, 'Griffin-story: chimera, dragon. Intelligence, battle, win. Bloody hell, I'm bored. Monogamous. Closest relative-'

"I'm waiting," Draco gestured to the sun, "and we're going to be late for dinner."

"All right," Seraphim sighed, crossing her arms. "Give me two out of the following three: what is a griffin, what is the story behind the griffin, and what is it's closest relative?"

An unfamiliar gleam appeared in Draco's eyes. "A griffin…" he mused. "A griffin." Mumbling to himself for a few moments, and then nodding, he smiled. "The griffin is an eagle with the hindquarters of a lion. That's easy, Gryffindor mascot. The griffin's stories…there were originally three mythical beasts, my namesake, the chimera, and the griffin. The dragon was unbeatable because of it's fire breathing and the chimera could not be attacked because of its many heads. The griffin watched them and used its intelligence to beat the other two. By luring the dragon underwater, its fire was extinguished and the griffin was the victor. But attacking the chimera from underground, it was caught off-guard and easily vanquished." Draco smirked.

Seraphim's mouth hung open, complete shock radiating from her entire being.

"And," Draco continued, "the closest relative of the griffin is the," he made a face, "hippogriff; an eagle with the hindquarters of a horse."

Seraphim continued to stare at him in disbelief.

"Darling," he said sweetly, inching closer to her, "I believe I've won."

Pouted for a moment. "All right, what is it you want?"

In response, Draco's grim turned feral as he continued to close the difference between them. In a matter of moments, Draco had trapped Seraphim between himself and a tree she'd backed into, blocking her ways of escape with one arm on either side of her. "What do you think?" he asked, playfully nipping at her ear.

"Dra-co," Seraphim rolled her eyes. "Stop playing."

"Who said I was playing?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. The sun had nearly set and they were already going to be quite late for dinner.

"Draco," Seraphim began seriously, "if you wanted to snog, we can do that somewhere warmer and considerably less grass-smelling."

"Aren't you up for a bit of fun?" he grinned, tilting his head to one side.

"Draco…" Seraphim trailed off. It really was getting late. And cold. And grass-smelling. Plus, she was supposed to be the responsible one. "I promise we can snog later. After dinner when it isn't as cold."

Draco pouted. "But I won. To the victor go the spoils, or so I've heard," he smirked. "And it really isn't that cold, is it?" he asked, creeping closer to inhale Seraphim's scent.

Seraphim sighed, shook her head, and smiled. "No, it's not really that cold."

Removing one hand from the tree, Draco tilted Seraphim's chin up and grinned. "Good." Leaning down, Draco began brushing his lips over Seraphim's lightly, continuously, reveling in the feel of her body trapped delicately against his, the way she drew security from his presence. The way her fingers caught in his robes, the way she sighed with each gentle kiss.

Positioning her arms around Draco's neck, Seraphim drew herself up to more firmly connect her lips with his. Feeling his hands on her shoulders, running down her arms and up her back, Seraphim shivered. So ultimately reminded of the indescribably _right_ feeling of their first kiss, a smile crept over her lips.

Soft, quiet laughter escaped Seraphim's parted lips when Draco paused to trail feathery butterfly kisses over her cheekbones. "Draco…"

"Seraphim…" he echoed back, pleased with himself.

Another languid kiss, another sweet whisper; each feeling so completely whole, so unbelievably content, so utterly perfect in one's adoration of the other. Soft touches and soothing caresses fashioned a world where everything made sense and their problems faded.

The day, like their wonderful fantasy world, soon ebbed; the last rays of sun disappearing as the couple parted. Dinner would be well under way in the Great Hall.

"You know," Draco mused as they sought to gather the fallen notes, "this is so much better than the Astronomy Tower."

"Hm?" asked Seraphim, straightening her hair as best she could.

"The Astronomy Tower, it's where everyone else goes to snog, there are too many stairs to climb and it's drafty," Draco explained.

Seraphim laughed and grabbed Draco's hand. "Come on, we'd better get back to the castle or we won't have anything to eat."

"Race you back!"

And they were off.


	24. Past and Present

AN: :Trumpet fanfare: I'm back! Bwahaha! With a new chapter! :cough: Okay, it's still MB season so I'm not writing much, but I finished this chapter so I figured I'd upload it when I uploaded all the edits. Which will probably be sometime this afternoon. So yay.

**Chapter 22: Past and Present**

Seraphim perused the wrinkled sheets of parchment that littered her desk. _There isn't much time,_ they said. _You must make a decision soon._ She didn't know what to do. Draco had deserted his _family_ for her, would she do the same? There were people counting on her to join the Order of the Phoenix; her aunt, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, Auror Moody. Many, many people.

Looking out at the seats in her empty classroom, she sighed. It was exams week. She would have until the end of the week to make her decision; that was her personal ultimatum. Seraphim sighed, it was Thursday; time was running out.

Smiling wryly, she stood and walked through the neat rows of desks. Filtered sunlight caught in her hair and made crazy patterns on the tables and chairs. 'This is where Hermione sits,' thought Seraphim idly. She could see the faint scratch marks of 'Hermione Granger, Gryffindor, Magic Theory' in the upper right hand corner of the desk, exactly where, if a sheet of parchment had been present, Hermione would writer her name on an assignment.

There, directly behind Hermione's, was Ron's seat. Seraphim chuckled; a tally had been set up in the lower left-hand corner. It read Seraphim: 12, Malfoy: 14. Seraphim thought back to the beginning of the year when she first found the tally. It had been tough to get Ron to say what exactly it was for. She'd laughed when he'd finally told her.

"How many times one of you has lost your temper with the other," he'd mumbled, pink to his ears.

Adjacent to Ron's desk was Harry's. Harry's desk was without visible scratches, but not without marks. A funny little ink drawing grumbled indignantly. It had previously been a picture of Harry and Ron in a mock-up Quidditch scrimmage. It had turned into a mud war and then the two stick figures had settled on playing never-ending games of tic-tac-toe. It seemed Harry was losing.

Walking to the back of the classroom, Seraphim chose to sit at Draco's desk. Running her hands over the polished wood, she realized that he was the only one who had not marked her beautiful desks. His desk was still smooth and unblemished. It saddened her in a way. For a long time, Seraphim sat in Draco's seat and thought of nothing in particular. She knew she was wasting time, but she didn't really care.

Musing over the marks on the different desks, Seraphim smiled wryly. It seemed the desks reflected battle wounds on each of the students. Harry's was, most evidently, his scar. Ron had retained a thin, red welt that, it seemed, would never fully disappear due to his encounter with the mutant brains at the Department of Mysteries. And over each of Hermione's eyelids was a small, dark star-shaped mark, the only evidence that a basilisk had ever attacked her. It was good, Seraphim reasoned, that Draco had no mark. She knew only too well what it would probably end up being.

A knock on the door snapped her out of her reverie. Looking up, Seraphim saw Harry leaning against the doorframe.

"It's lunch, Seraphim. Come on," he beckoned. Ron and Hermione could be seen behind him, discussing the last essay question on their Charms exam.

"All right, give me a minute," she sighed, making her way to the front of the room and stuffing the scattered papers in a drawer.

At lunch, it seemed that many of the fifth and seventh years were close to having mental breakdowns. They practically inhaled their food and were mumbling the twelve uses of dragon's blood or listing the procedure for a vanishing potion. Poor Ginny Weasley was falling asleep in her food. Seraphim knew that Ron had woken her at the crack of dawn to help her get in some extra study time for her O.W.L.s.

Across the hall, Draco was picking idly at something that appeared to be chicken but might have been something else entirely. His head hurt, his eyes were sore, and his neck was getting a cramp. Damn exams. Just as he was about to fall face-first into a pudding of some sort, Blaise jostled him alert.

"Are you going to eat that?" asked the darker boy, pointing at a biscuit on Draco's plate. "It's just such a waste to waste food, you know. Especially food with chocolate sprinkles."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Have the exams taken no toll on you at all?" he asked, irritated.

"Well, the exams aren't all you're worrying about, are they?" Blaise winked at the blonde while swiping the sugar-infested treat.

"Don't know what you're on about," Draco muttered darkly, reaching for a few chocolate-covered almonds. He proceeded to attempt to fall asleep at the table.

"It's not as if I'm blind," Blaise continued, as if Draco hadn't initiated the end of the conversation. "I know you're planning to ask-"

"And what if I am?" asked Draco hotly, glaring at his friend. "It's none of your business." He made a small noise of irritation and set about gathering his things. "I'm going to be late for the History of Magic exam."

Watching the blonde stomp off, Blaise chuckled. Irritating Draco was so much fun if you knew which buttons to press. And sometimes it really paid to be close to Pansy Parkinson.

Sighing as he exited the double doors, Draco grumbled to himself. The History of Magic exam wasn't due to start for at least another ten-fifteen minutes. Walking slowly along the corridors so as to take up as much time as possible getting to his destination, Draco fingered a thin chain in his pocket. He then absent-mindedly fingered an identical chain around his neck. Tucking his chain under his robes, Draco looked around warily, as if he were being followed, and continued on his way.

Back in Gryffindor tower, Seraphim paced the common room. Exams wouldn't be over for at least another hour, but Seraphim wished for much longer. What to do, what to do. The Order could really use her unique gifts. But fighting against future parents-in-law…

Seraphim stopped herself. Parents-in-law, where had _that_ come from? Shaking her head, Seraphim continued her pacing. Fighting against people. It was so pointless. She was a relatively peaceable character, fighting when provoked but preferring to stay on the sidelines. She never quite understood team sports; weren't they just the same thing as a mock-war? One of her favorite quotes was 'war does not determine who is right, war determines who is left.' But she was tangenting.

She wanted to help. But she wanted to prove that she could make the same sacrifice Draco was making. 'I'm being selfish.'

The portrait hole opened and the fifth and sixth years all filed in, exhausted. Seraphim quickly made a beeline for Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "So, how was it?"

"Awful," Harry groaned.

"Good thing there's only Care of Magical Creatures and Astrology left," Ron sighed. "I might just keel over if there were more."

Seraphim nodded absent-mindedly.

"Are you all right?" asked Hermione, waving a hand in front of Seraphim's face.

"Yes," Seraphim blinked a couple times. "Just tired."

Satisfied, the other three quickly commandeered a table and set up their books, quizzing each other every so often. Smiling wryly, Seraphim watched as they hurriedly squeezed information from their notes and books, rushing to beat the clock. Thirty minutes left until their next exam, twenty…ten.

"You'd better get going, you'll be late," she said finally, tapping Harry on the shoulder.

"Hm?" he glanced at his watch. "Oh, come on." Grabbing hold of Ron and Hermione, they bolted.

Left alone again, Seraphim lost herself in thought.

A half hour later, she found herself sitting atop a hill. Their hill. How she'd gotten there, Seraphim could only wonder, but as she gazed out over the lake, spotting Hagrid attempting to calm down some first years who had accidentally set fire to the creature they were studying, she felt puzzled. She wanted to join the order, but only to protect those who needed protection. The battlefield held no place for her.

Confused, she looked around and was surprised to see a lone figure watching her. Seraphim smiled and beckoned to her visitor.

"Hello Draco."

A wry smile graced Draco's lips. "What were you thinking so intently about?" he chuckled. "I've been standing here for a good ten minutes and you haven't said a word."

"Just…things." Seraphim shrugged.

"Things?" Draco grinned, settling down next to her. "What kind of things?"

"People," she paused. "You." She sighed heavily. "Moody."

"Ah." Draco sat up, "Moody."

"Yes, Moody." Seraphim buried her face in her hands. "I don't know what to do."

"What do you want to do?" asked Draco, watching her intently. He wrapped an arm around her. "Whatever you do, it _will_ be all right with me. I promise," he whispered, the corners of his mouth raising just a little.

"I want to…take care of the people I love. I don't want to hurt people, but I don't want…I don't want to stand idly by while people I love get hurt. But I don't want to fight. I want…" Seraphim looked away and frowned. "I want it all to stop. I want to just be us."

Draco looked Seraphim squarely in the eye. "That's exactly what I want."

"Huh?"

"To look after the ones I care for, and most of all to look after you." He smiled softly. "I love you." Draco sighed and looked toward the setting sun, "Help your friends the same way that I'm going to help mine. Help to take care of them and nurse them back to health. Protect them without the intent of hurting others."

"When did you become so wise?" asked Seraphim tilting her head. Then she frowned. "But if we're helping people on different sides, how will we…what will we…what will happen to us?"

Draco bit his lip. "I don't know. Maybe we'll have to disappear."

Startled, Seraphim stared at Draco in shock. "What?"

"Us. Maybe we'll have to disappear. Maybe we'll have to stop being us for…however long it takes," Draco shut his eyes as if the statement were painful. "It's the only thing I can think of."

"Do you mean…keeping us a secret-"

"No." Draco sighed heavily. "I mean…completely stopping." He shut his eyes tightly. "Seraphim, I love you. You know I love you; that's why we need to do this. We both want to help people we care about without the other getting hurt and…I think this is the only way."

Seraphim stared at Draco in disbelief. "But…we…are you…" Confusion welled up in Seraphim's eyes. "What are you saying?"

"Seraphim, I love you. And I want you to wait for me." Draco pulled a long, silver box-chain from his pocket. Swaying in the middle was a band of silver flowers veined with gold. Draco took the ring between his fingers and examined the small star-cut diamond flanked by a tiny ruby on one side and a small emerald on the other.

Seraphim leaned back a little, eyebrows raised. "Draco, what are you doing?"

In response, Draco tugged on his collar to draw a similar chain and ring hanging around his neck. "Don't worry, I'm not proposing," he smirked. "It's something called a promise ring." Draco leaned his forehead against Seraphim's, "I promise there will never be anyone but you."

Seraphim looked at Draco, hesitant. "You want me to wait for you," she repeated, blankly.

Suddenly unsure, Draco nodded. "Yes."

Taking the chain from his hands, Seraphim examined the piece of jewelry. "It might be a long time," she mused, almost to herself.

"Seraphim, please," Draco clasped her hands in his. "Please," he pleaded, "wait for me. I promise I will wait for you."

Freeing her hands, Seraphim unclasped the chain and, dragging Draco's hands with her own, slipped it around her neck. Closing her eyes, she whispered, "I promise."

It began to drizzle.

Yay. So please leave some reviews. Or something. Because they make me feel warm and fuzzy inside. And hey, the warm fuzzies may help to battle the cold I've caught. J Thank you.


	25. Preparation

**Chapter 23: Preparation **

A week after exams, Seraphim and Draco sat in Seraphim's empty classroom discussing the future. It was drizzling outside, one thing that had been a constant in the otherwise hectic end of school rush. Also a perfect backdrop to the unhappy plan the couple was concocting.

Draco slammed his fist down on a desk. "It isn't _fair_."

Seraphim sighed and walked over to assess the damage to both the desk and Draco's hand. "Life's not fair, Draco."

"I wish we didn't have to go through with this," he huffed. Pacing back and forth in the front of the classroom, he began muttering to himself.

Shaking her head, Seraphim grabbed hold of his shoulders and led him to a chair. "I don't like it any better than you do, but it's the only way…and you suggested it."

"I know that," he protested, "it just doesn't seem…right."

Seraphim slumped down in the seat beside him. "It doesn't. I don't know what to say to make you feel better. I don't even know what to tell myself." She fingered the chain around her neck. "I'm scared, Draco."

"I know. Me too," he slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer.

"What are we going to do?" Seraphim stared blankly across the room. "How will we make it work? I don't-"

"Shh," Draco placed a finger over her lips. "I've got it all worked out." He smiled shakily. "I'm going to pick a fight with you tomorrow in class, just to let you know."

"Draco," Seraphim rolled her eyes, "a single fight wouldn't be enough to…well, you know." She gestured wildly. "You know that."

Draco winced inwardly. "Don't worry, I've got it taken care of. I promise," his smile turned lopsided.

Seraphim regarded him skeptically. "Draco…"

"Trust me," he implored. "Just…just trust me."

"I do trust you; it's just, sometime you worry me." Seraphim closed her eyes, rubbing her temples with one hand while reaching for Draco with the other. She sent him a doleful look when his fingers began stroking her cheek.

Pulling Seraphim onto his lap, Draco wrapped his arms around her and kissed her neck. "I told you, it's all taken care of. I'll make it believable."

"What are you planning?"

"Don't worry." Draco smirked, patting her hip, "There will be no doubts that we'll have…parted ways when I'm through."

"There are people we won't be able to fool," Seraphim replied seriously. Standing, she turned to face him, "It's not as simple as that."

Draco stood, moved to sit on her desk, and looked her in the eye. "I know it isn't that simple. But I'm asking you to trust me."

Seraphim raised an eyebrow. "I don't know…"

Grabbing her wrist, Draco pulled her closer until she bumped the desk's edge. "Please?" he implored, giving her a shot of puppy dog eyes and wrapping his legs around her waist, effectively trapping her.

Draco was rewarded with a disapproving stare. "Not here, Draco."

"All right," he said jokingly, kissing her neck again and locking his ankles around her knees instead, "where?"

That coaxed a small smile from Seraphim. "That's not what I mean."

Serious now, Draco took Seraphim's hands in his own. "Please, I'm just asking you to trust me for a while. I promise it'll work out the way we need it to."

After a long moment of silence, Seraphim dropped her eyes to the floor. "All right. Whatever it is you have up your sleeve, I trust you. I'm not saying it's a good idea since you don't want to tell me what it is, but I trust you." She pulled away and turned to exit the room. "But I'm not happy with you keeping secrets like this, especially at such a crucial point in time." Sighing, she looked back to face him at the doorway and bit her lip; "I'll see you at dinner."

When she was finally gone, Draco let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. 'Well, that's over with,' he thought to himself. Leaning back on the desk, he ran his fingers shakily through his hair. 'I hate complications.'

Later that evening, Draco crept into Seraphim's bedroom. The fireplace was nothing but softly glowing embers and Seraphim had fallen asleep in her chair again, glasses sliding down her nose, a book falling out of her hands, wrapped in the quilt he'd given her. Smiling wryly, Draco scooped her up in his arms, put her book away, removed her glasses, and set her down on the bed.

"Mmphh," she muttered, snuggling closer to him and successfully sealing off Draco's escape route.

Slowly detaching one of her arms from his waist, Draco shook her lightly. "Seraphim…Seraphim, you have to let me go now," he whispered.

Eyes squeezed shut, Seraphim shook her head once and held him tighter.

"Seraphim…" Draco tried again, still attempting to pry her arms off of him.

"No…" she mumbled, the corners of her mouth threatening to turn upward. She peeked at him through half-closed eyelids. "Stay."

"Seraphim, I have to go to sleep," Draco bent down to kiss her forehead. "Let me go…please?"

"No, stay with me. It's our last night…we're supposed to…" she made an incomprehensible noise, "tomorrow."

Draco sighed, kicking off his slippers and climbing under the quilt with her. "Happy now?"

Seraphim shook her head. "I never want to let you go." She nuzzled his chest and pressed herself closer to him.

Kissing the top of her head, Draco lifted Seraphim's chin and smiled. "I don't know what I did you deserve you," he kissed her nose, "but I'm glad I decided to do it." He began nibbling her lower lip. "I love you."

Giggling, Seraphim kissed him back. "I love you too."

Suddenly, Draco began tickling Seraphim's ribs. In an attempt to escape, Seraphim very nearly missed kicking Draco's nose which resulted in both of them tumbling to the floor. Not to be outdone, Draco made a grab for Seraphim's ankle, but she scuttled away to her desk and, finding some owl treats, began throwing them at her pseudo-attacker.

"Ow!" Draco hid behind Seraphim's bed as the little bombs exploded on the hardwood floor around him. He smirked; a schoolteacher in her nightdress was chucking owl treats at him.

Grabbing a pillow for a shield, Draco made a mad dash across the room to Seraphim's base of operations. Snatching the bag of pet nibbles from her with one hand, he grabbed Seraphim's waist and threw her over his shoulder caveman-style with the other and began carrying her back to bed.

Tossing the owl treats on the bedside table and swiping his wand from the surface in one swift movement, Draco dumped Seraphim unceremoniously on the bed, face down, and muttered 'petrificus totalus.' Seraphim couldn't move. Smirking to himself and summoning a feather, Draco began where he left off: tickling Seraphim to bits. Sitting on her butt with his long legs on either side of her, he drew the tip of the feather across the soles of her feet. Seeing her muscles tense, Draco chuckled soundlessly; Seraphim was so much fun to tease sometimes.

Drawing circular patterns over her feet, he continued up her calves and to the backs of her knees. Draco was sure that, if movement were possible, Seraphim would be kicking him. Savoring the moment, he then hopped off the bed and flipped her over, simultaneously performing the countercharm for the body-bind and a spell for paralysis.

Seraphim glared at him.

Draco only smiled mischievously. "No," he chortled, "I'm not finished with you yet."

Nuzzling her neck, Draco brushed his hands lightly down Seraphim's sides. An attempt to communicate was thwarted by the temporary paralysis and Seraphim could only look at Draco with pleading eyes.

"Do you promise to be good?" he asked playfully.

Seraphim gave him what she hoped was a meaningful look.

"Give me tonight," he whispered, trailing his fingers over her jaw line, down her neck, tracing her shoulder. Draco thought he heard Seraphim's breath catch in her throat. "Please," he added.

Seraphim blinked; Draco had lifted the paralysis spell and crouched over her on the bed with a look of longing and vulnerability she'd never seen before.

"Please," he whispered again. The brush of warm air against her neck sent her pulse racing.

In a single movement, Seraphim lifted herself up on her elbows and prepared to give Draco the snogging of his life.

The next morning, when Seraphim woke up, she was confused. There was an arm draped over her. She blinked. The torso connected to the arm was currently unclothed. Blinking again, Seraphim realized she was in a dangerous state of undress. Glancing at her bedmate, hoping for answers to her questions, Seraphim spied familiar blonde hair. Draco. The previous night came back in a flood of memories.

Kisses, caresses, honest-to-God magic sparking between them. Running the back of her hand down Draco's face, Seraphim sighed and shook him awake. "Draco," she murmured. "Draco, you have to get up, we've both got class in half an hour."

An unintelligible sound came from him half parted lips. "Five more minutes, Zabini, I promise."

"Draco. You're not in your dormitory, you have to get up now." Seraphim shook him again.

His eyes shot open. "Huh?" Sitting straight up, he blinked his eyes sleepily and looked over at Seraphim, his cheeks coloring slightly. "Sorry."

She kissed his cheek. "It's okay. Hurry up and shower. I'll get your clothes clean."

Draco climbed out of the bed and blushed again, realizing he'd lost his trousers sometime during the previous night.

Giggling, Seraphim gave him a look. "It's not like I didn't see that about seven hours ago."

Draco grinned sheepishly and headed to Seraphim's bathroom.

Something tugged at Seraphim's heartstrings. In a couple hours, 'Seraphim and Draco' would be no more.

With the disconcerting thought in her mind, she gathered Draco's clothes and proceeded to literally charm the dirt off them.


	26. Results

AN: Well…I actually finished another chapter. GO ME! J So, this is AU from after fifth year now. I'll put it in the main summary afterwards. I hope you enjoy. Hopefully I'll get around to writing the last chapter and epilogue sometime soon.

* * *

Chapter 24: Results

When she entered her classroom to begin the day's activities, Seraphim was surprised to notice Draco wasn't present. Thinking he was cutting class to strengthen their 'breakup', she simply marked him absent and started a lecture. Something at the back of her neck prickled though, she couldn't get Draco out of her head.

After class, she stayed behind, deciding to cut her history of magic class, and clean out her office. She'd be leaving in a month and classes were nearly over with anyway.

As she emptied drawers and file cabinets, she reminisced about the previous months. Setting aside old papers and knick knacks, she felt the prickle again. Wrinkling her nose, she stepped to the door and peered cautiously out. Seeing no one, she returned to her desk to continued her past-due spring cleaning, all the while trying to shake the unnerving feeling that something wasn't right.

* * *

When the students were released for lunch, Seraphim found Harry, Ron, and Hermione, a spot at the Gryffindor table, and the sugar quill she'd been looking for so she could finish her final lesson plan for the year. Unfortunately, Draco was still missing in action. Seraphim scanned the Slytherin table but could not seem to locate the silver-gold head of hair.

Noticing her disgruntled look, Hermione tapped her on the shoulder. "Are you all right?"

Seraphim wrinkled her nose. "I seem to have lost something." She rolled her eyes in the direction of the green-clothed table.

Hermione raised an eyebrow in understanding, "I see." Scanning the hall quickly, Hermione shrugged. "I'm sure he'll turn up later."

Casting a worried glance at the table, Seraphim nodded. Pouting, she ate the rest of her meal in silence.

* * *

By the time afternoon classes began, Seraphim was getting irritated. How could she and Draco have a terrible argument over whose side they would be on when the imminent war came if Draco never showed up? Huffily, she stomped to the sixth-year potions class, fully intending to give Draco a very large piece of her mind, but found, after looking warily through the doorframe, that he wasn't in _that _class either.

Puzzled, Seraphim returned to her own classroom and sat, not quite knowing what to do with herself. Julian swooped through the open window with some mail for her; nothing but a few bills and a notice that her subscription to _The Daily Prophet_ was about to expire. Disgusted, she tossed the pieces of parchment into a 'to-do' bin, promptly forgetting about them.

Julian pecked incessantly at her shoulder, waiting for a treat. Seraphim ignored the falcon and distractedly ran her fingers through her hair. Finding a tangle, she began the monotonous task of finding a hairbrush and straightening it out.

Finally, when she was reduced to checking her wall clock every two minutes, Seraphim pulled a chair over to her desk, got out a pen, some ink, and a sheet of parchment, and grumpily began composing a note.

_Draco Malfoy, she began. Chewing on her lip, she sighed, frustrated. After a few moments of reducing the parchment to meaningless scribbles, she smirked, pleased with herself. Taking out another clean sheet, she closed her eyes tightly and took a deep breath._

_Draco,_

_I was just wondering where you've been all day. I haven't seen you since this morning. I need to speak to you about something very important. Please send Julian back with a response right away. I'd like to meet you as soon as possible._

_I hope you're all right and haven't gotten into any trouble._

_All my love,_

_Seraphim_

Reading the letter over again, Seraphim was satisfied that no one outside the two of them would know what they were talking about. She called Julian over from where he'd found her bag of owl treats and tied the note to his leg.

"Now, you have permission to peck him as long as you want until he gives me a response, understand?" she told the bird, stroking his head.

Julian dipped his head and nibbled her ear affectionately.

"Good." Seraphim took Julian to the window and released him.

* * *

She had just fallen asleep from sheer boredom when Seraphim heard a sharp tapping on her window. Groggily, she opened it and was terrified to see a bundle of feathers flying straight for her face.

Fully awake, she was surprised to see Julian with her message still dangling from his leg. Looking quickly out the window to make sure nothing had attacked the falcon, Seraphim strode over to his perch. Julian, however, was not preening calmly as he usually would after a delivery. Instead, his eyes darted back and forth while he hovered anxiously by Seraphim's bed.

"Julian, what is it?" Seraphim held out her arm, concerned for him. "What's wrong?"

The agitated bird did not want to be calmed. He ignored the human perch that was being offered him and continued glancing all about the room, shrieking incessantly.

"Julian," Seraphim tried again, this time worried about Draco. "Julian, is something wrong with Draco?"

This time the bird swooped in and out the window before coming to rest on Seraphim's shoulder, still tense and glancing quickly about.

"Is Draco in trouble? Is that why you didn't deliver my message?" Seraphim asked anxiously.

Julian screamed again, this time louder and more nervous.

Seraphim grabbed the bird's beak. "Julian, calm down. Listen to me. Is Draco all right?"

The bird's head continued to jerk as she held it, the movements becoming smaller and smaller until he fluttered his wings and looked Seraphim in the eye.

"Did you find him?" she asked firmly, looking Julian in the eye.

The bird nodded once, fidgeting.

"Good. Is he all right?" Seraphim kept her voice calm and even.

Hesitating a moment, the bird nodded again.

Seraphim sighed with relief. "Then what's wrong?"

Julian glanced out the window again and quickly made a muffled squawking sound.

Thinking a moment, Seraphim cleared her throat. "Will you take me to where he is?"

Fluttering his wings in response, Julian left Seraphim's wrist and drifted over to the door. Quickly locking it after exiting, Seraphim followed.

Julian led Seraphim out of Gryffindor tower and down the corridor, stopping every few doors to make sure she was still with him. Seraphim sensed the bird's unease and couldn't understand what exactly the problem was. She knew that Draco didn't particularly _like_ the falcon, but they tolerated each other.

Taking a sharp turn, Seraphim saw that Julian had brought her to the less-used, read 'secret', passage leading to the Slytherin common room. Irritated, she rolled her eyes. "Julian, if you knew Draco was in his room, why didn't you just…" she trailed off. Really, it wasn't is fault he couldn't speak. Grumbling to herself, she continued after the bird.

Muttering the password, Seraphim followed her disgruntled pet and stepped cautiously into the passageway. Satisfied that she was alone in her intrusion, she continued, following the wall and searching for markers that would tell her where Draco's room was.

* * *

Upon reaching the door to Draco's dorm, Seraphim heard voices. Cautiously, she reached for the door, shushing Julian. "I'm just going to find out what he's up to," she whispered, stroking the bird's neck.

"_Alohomora_," she said quietly, cracking the door open.

Peering inside the room, she froze.

Draco was in his room all right. In fact, he was lying in bed, comfy as you please, with Yvonne Alacir, a seventh-year Slytherin, and, apparently, bestowing on his bedmate certain carnal pleasures which will go unmentioned.

Seraphim felt a burning sensation prick her eyes and realized she was crying. Hurriedly wiping her cheeks and setting her jaw, she cleared her throat. "Ahem."

The bed's occupants looked up quickly, Yvonne's pale hair fanning out behind her as she left off making her way down Draco's chest in favor of turning around.

Seraphim didn't know what she expected. Perhaps sorrow, remorse, resentment. But definitely not the look she saw in Draco's eyes. Disdain.

"What do you want?" he snapped, drawing Yvonne closer to him. Seraphim could see him trail his fingers up her back.

"I-" Seraphim bit her lip. "I was worried about you," she replied. "I haven't seen you all day and wondered if you were all right." She blinked hard, fighting tears.

"Well," Draco retorted, "I'm fine and I'm right here. But I am a little busy." He waved at her. "Come back in half an hour and I'm sure we'll be finished." Smirking naughtily at Yvonne, he chuckled. "We only need half an hour, right?"

Furious, Seraphim swung the door open and stalked toward Draco, slapping him hard across the cheek. "Draco Malfoy," she began angrily, "I don't know what I _ever_ saw in you, but it certainly isn't there anymore and I never_, ever_ want to speak to you again!"

Refraining from slapping him a second time, Seraphim turned quickly on her heels and stormed out of the dorm, heading for the safety of Gryffindor tower and her own bed.


End file.
